Note 1.—Otago.

Under enactment of the Imperial Parliament, passed in the fifteenth and sixteenth years of the reign of Her Majesty Queen Victoria, intituled "An Act to grant Representative Institutions to the Islands of New Zealand," the colony was divided into six political centres—Auckland, New Plymouth, and Wellington in the North; Nelson, Canterbury, and Otago in the South. With the spread of settlement, some of these proved too large, and outlying districts became too remotely situated from their seats of Government. In the year 1857 a new Act was passed, by which a further subdivision took place, and three additional political centres were added to the list. Under that readjustment Otago, in the year 1860, lost that area afterwards known as Southland. Ten years later they were reunited. Each province was worked on the basis of a representative institution; so that when provincialism was at its height nine, if not ten, separate Legislatures were in operation. As things now exist, such political provision would be deemed a superabundance of government—a plethora of legislation. The state of affairs, however, was very different then from now. Little or no provision existed for intercommunication, and what passed in that way between the different centres went, for the most part, by sea in the sailing-craft. Having absolutely no intercommercial relations to provide for, and few or no interests in common, they were as much isolated as if they had been separate kingdoms lying widely apart. Therefore local and quasi-local administrations were rendered, in a measure, imperative. In process of time communication became more perfect. A through system of roads, with postal and telegraphic communication, was provided, and more recently a railway system established. The different centres were thus brought more and more into contact, and less occasion was felt for local administration in its legislative capacity. An Act of the General Assembly of New Zealand passed in 1876 abolished the provinces altogether, and vested legislative control entirely in the hands of the Central Government. Apt as we now are to look upon these Old-World institutions as remnants of the barbarous past, they nevertheless served their day and generation, and did it to good advantage. They planted a class of settlers on the soil who for thrift and enterprise compare favourably with their successors, and otherwise promoted the work of colonisation on a sound and substantial basis.

In 1843 the Otago settlement was first projected. A remnant of the Church of Scotland disruptionists was dissatisfied with the measure of liberty in ecclesiastical affairs secured to them in that memorable event. The idea was that, by founding an entirely new colony, they would be enabled to establish a Church on purely Free Kirk principles. This exclusive policy, however, does not seem to have been insisted upon. A few years later the object was announced to be a careful selection of emigrants, independent altogether of creed, and to provide for their religious and ecclesiastical wants at the outset. That manifesto is dated 30th June, 1851. Meantime, the association became incorporated with the New Zealand Company, a body already in operation at and around Wellington. In furtherance of this joint scheme, an exploring party left Nelson on the 31st March, 1844. Reporting on the land selected, Dr. Monro, one of the explorers, says, inter alia, "The block has a coast-line of from fifty to sixty miles in length, lying between the mouth of Otago Harbour and a headland called the Noggetts [Nuggets], about three miles south-west of the Clutha River. It extends to an average distance inland of seven miles. The southernmost portion is watered by the rivers Puerua, Koan, and Clutha. The two last named are navigable for vessels of considerable tonnage. Connected with one another, and with the Clutha, by navigable streams are the shallow lagoons of Kaitangata and Rangitoto [Tuakitoto], one and six miles long respectively. Their fertile shores will furnish an admirable series of sections, the only drawback to which is the scarcity, not the absence, of wood. The Waihola and Rangitoto are about twelve miles apart. The plain of the Taieri is swampy, but, on the whole, will be a valuable district. The river of the same name flows into the sea about twenty or thirty miles south of Otago. Wild hogs are said to abound in all parts of the district, quail are in abundance all over the grassy plains, and wild-fowl in the rivers and lagoons. Weka, or wood-hen, is also common. In the mineral kingdom, the existence of coal in great profusion is also remarkable. Its appearance on the coast at Coal Point is conspicuous."

The settlement as first projected comprised 144,600 acres, divided into 2,400 properties. Each property consisted of sixty and a quarter acres, divided into three allotments, viz.: town, one-quarter acre; suburban, ten acres; and rural, fifty acres. The appropriation of these was as follows: 2,000 properties, or 120,500 acres, to private individuals; 100 properties, or 6,025 acres, to be purchased by the local municipal government; 100 properties, or 6,025 acres, for religious and educational purposes; and 200 properties, or 12,050 acres, for the New Zealand Company.

That is what is known as the Otago purchase. The original deed of sale, as between the Native owners and the Government, bears date the 31st July, 1844, the purchase-price being £2,400. It comprised a total of 400,000 acres, being all that area extending from the mouth of Otago Harbour to the Mataura River and inland to the Maungaatua (Maungatua) and Kaihiku Ranges. Of this 150,000 acres were reserved for the Otago settlement. Seven years later Captain Stokes, R.N., commissioned by the Imperial Government to make a survey of the coast, reported in his despatch to the then Governor, now Sir George Grey, "The Maoris, both in Foveaux Strait and at Otago, express a desire to sell all the land from Otago to the western coast, and probably £2,000 would be accepted as purchase-money." That despatch is dated 1st September, 1850. The next heard of the affair is that a gentleman—the Hon. Mr. Mantell—is appointed Commissioner to treat for the purchase. Mr. Mantell's negotiations were brought to a close on the 17th August, 1853, when a deed of conveyance was executed by the Native owners of all that vast territory, extending from Milford Sound to the Mataura, including adjacent islands, except the Ruapuke Group, together with all lands, anchorages, landing-places, rivers, lakes, woods, and bush, the purchase-price, as Captain Stokes surmised, being £2,000. Stewart Island, which at this date seems to have been treated as part of the Ruapuke Group, exempted from the previous sale, came under offer during Governor Gore Browne's term of office. John Topi, one of the island chiefs, offers by letter to sell that portion of land westward of the 68th degree of longitude. The proposal was relegated to the Superintendent of Southland, by whom the purchase of the entire island was effected in 1864, the price being £6,000. Meantime what is known as the Ngaitahu Block was brought under negotiation, and, by deed dated 12th June, 1848, its sale was accomplished, the price paid being £2,000. The area is described as comprising all that Native territorial possession lying along the shores of the sea, commencing at Kaiapoi (Canterbury); thence to Otakou (Otago), and on till it joins the boundary of the Otago purchase; running from thence to the Kaihiku Mountains, and onwards till it reaches the sea at Whakatipu Waitai (Milford Sound). From thence, as defined on the plan annexed to the deed, by the sea along the west coast to a point corresponding in a direct line with the mouth of the Kaiapoi River on the east coast. The effect of that sale was to cede possession of the remainder of the land now forming the Provincial District of Otago in favour of the Crown, besides disposing of a large tract of the adjoining Province of Canterbury. Writing to the Home authorities, the Governor, Sir G. Grey, remarks that it would be a source of satisfaction to find that so large an extent of country of the most fertile description had been unrestrictedly opened to British enterprise without the possibility of any of those embarrassing questions arising in relation to it which had been the source of so much perplexity to the settlers of the North Island.

The entire price expended upon these purchases amounted to £12,400. Deducting £1,000, which we may fairly estimate as the value of the Canterbury lands included in the Ngaitahu purchase, we have the balance (£11,400) paid for the Provincial District of Otago, including Stewart Island. After the lapse of forty years (1888) we find these lands valued for assessment purposes at a sum in excess of twenty-three millions and three-quarters sterling—namely, eight millions improved and fifteen millions and three-quarters unimproved values. The area of the district, in round numbers, is 16,000,000 acres, so that these lands, originally obtained for little more than half a farthing per acre, have now acquired a uniform average value of £1. Both in character and situation some of these are choice pieces of property. In business parts of Dunedin they sell at from £50 to £100 per foot, or from £13,000 to £26,000 per acre, so that a building-site now may be worth double what was originally paid for the entire provincial district. In less populous places like Invercargill the highest estimated value is set down at £50 per foot; and in third-rate business centres such as Queenstown, Lawrence, Palmerston South, &c., £10 per foot. We have here a record which practically defies competition. Independent of the fact that eighteen millions sterling, being half the amount of the national debt of New Zealand, was taken out of these lands in the shape of gold, their acquired value during the period named bears favourable comparison with the most successful colonising schemes. Indeed, it rivals the enormous values acquired within the last forty or fifty years by property in many of the seaport towns of Old England, and proves beyond doubt that, although mistakes may have occurred in the administration of affairs, the policy of New Zealand as a whole has been one of enlightenment and progression.

Such, then, is a brief outline of the process by which the fee-simple of this remarkable land was first obtained for European occupation—a land with soil so fertile that it has justly been described as the granary of the south. It is a land largely peopled by the North Briton, and if, as the body of the narrative would have us believe, he brought certain of his national prejudices with him, he likewise brought much of that sturdy stubborn independence by which the primeval wilderness alone can be subdued. So much are the conditions of this, his adopted country, in harmony with the land of his birth that he has become quite as attached to the one as ever he was to the other; and, in its rising generation, Otago is securing for itself a population as enthusiastically indigenous to the soil as ever stood fire on the field of Falkirk, or handled the dirk on Culloden Moor.

In the matter of rivers Otago has a choice system. It is not possible to place even an approximate estimate upon all the streams and rivulets with which it is provided. Those of greatest importance are—Clutha, 200 miles in length [see Note 15]; Taieri, 150 miles; Mataura, 120 miles; Oreti, 130 miles; Waiau, 140 miles. The majority of these are fed by upland snowfields and glaciers. When the rigours of winter cease, and hot weather sets in, their snows melt, and the snow-water comes down in great profusion. In that way the rivers are kept perennially flowing. Indeed, the summer, if at all hot, is frequently their highest season, and the cold snow-water, even after it has flowed miles and miles, diffuses cooling effects in proportion to the heat of the weather. To this alone the climate of Otago is indebted for one of its regulating measures, and that a more important one than is generally understood.

The first census enumeration made of the province was in the year 1854. The population then numbered 2,557. Twelve months afterwards it amounted to (including 505 half-castes) 4,939. Thirty-six years later these numbers had increased to a total of 160,897, of whom 86,258 were males and 74,639 were females.

The acreage under crop in 1854 was 3,168. In 1889 the land held from the Crown for pastoral purposes was 5,645,838 acres; held for other than pastoral purposes, 293,441 acres; rented from Natives, 8,030 acres; rented from public bodies, 540,600 acres; and rented from private individuals, 430,413 acres: making a total of 9,645,782 acres so disposed of. The extent of land fenced in was 5,978,958 acres; held freehold, 2,727,460 acres. In point of productiveness, we have these lands yielding as follows: Wheat, 28·03 bushels to the acre; oats, 33·20 bushels; barley, 38·93 bushels; rye and bere, 18·35 bushels; peas, 19·83 bushels; beans, 18 bushels; hay, 1·61 tons; potatoes, 4·16 tons. Its areas under staple cultivations in 1891 were—Wheat, 391,460 acres; oats, 346,224 acres; barley, 32,740 acres; potatoes, 32,691 acres; which yielded as follows: 5,723,610, 9,947,036, 758,833 bushels respectively, and 178,121 tons.

To the end of December, 1890, 133½ tons of gold were mined in Otago, of the money-value of £18,886,928, which, over and above representing one-half the national debt of the colony, left a balance of £379,110 to the good. The yield of gold from the colony as a whole to that period was 329¾ tons, valued at £46,425,629, which, besides being equivalent to the colonial indebtedness, leaves the surplus of £9,030,882.

The coal-measures, to the date mentioned, gave an output of 2,054,112 tons; the produce for the year being 176,428 tons, showing an increase of 25,967 tons over the previous year. The entire output of the colony to 1890 was 6,456,674 tons; that for the year being 637,397, or 50,952 tons in excess of the output for 1889.

In live-stock the Provincial District numbered in 1891 50,206 horses, 152,003 cattle, 4,287,860 sheep, 38,027 pigs, and 443,059 poultry.

Its dairy produce during the same year included 2,864,869lb. of butter and 3,566,150lb. of cheese.

Clearing, fencing, draining, and other improvements in rural properties is represented by £3,493,826, and unimproved properties at £11,023,182. Crown and Native lands unoccupied are valued at £814,192.

There are, in all, thirty-seven boroughs in Otago, with an improvement value of £4,519,898, and an unimproved value of £4,725,953.

Note 2.—Otago Harbour.

The earliest record we have of Otago Harbour—or, as it was called, Otakou—is highly creditable to Native instincts. It is reported in the Sydney Gazette of 1815. A brig named the "Matilda," hailing from New South Wales, reached the harbour in distress. She was manned by Lascars, many of whom were prostrate from sickness, besides which the vessel had run short of provisions. No sooner did the Native chief, named Papuhi, understand the state of affairs than he collected his people and sent them off on a fishing expedition. In a short time the famishing crew were provided with a large supply of fish. The potato crop at the time was only half-grown, and tapu. Despite that fact, the kindly Papuhi had them dug up for the use of the distressed vessel. Getting partly recruited, the men were set to water the ship. The watering place was at a distance of a mile, and the labour of rolling the casks taxed the still delicate crew beyond their strength. Seeing this, the chief himself immediately set to and rendered assistance. His example being followed by the others, the work was completed with comparatively little fatigue to the crew. Every morning at sunrise Papuhi went on board and saw that a sufficiency of food was provided for the requirements of the day. The long continuance of bad weather encountered by the ship had thrown its gearing out of order, and the running-gear in particular was in a very bad state. Observing this, the chief, without prefatory remark, assisted by the others, both men and women, set about making ropes after the manner of the country. In that way the brig was again made fit for sea; and, on leaving, the Natives, seeing the straitened circumstances of the crew, refused to accept any reward: indeed, the only stipulation they made was that when the captain came that way again he should pay them a visit. The chief was a man standing 6ft. 6in. high, and the greatest respect and attention was paid by the others to everything he said. A finer example of benevolent purpose we are assured could not have been shown by any class of men. It does indeed cover a multitude of sins arising out of the strained relations which too often characterized early European intercourse with the New-Zealander.

In 1833 the harbour was known as one of seven whaling-stations established on the coast. It was owned and worked by G. and E. Weller, a firm of Sydney merchants. In that year, with four boats, 128 tuns of oil was got. Next year, with eight boats, the produce was 310 tuns, which was the largest amount yielded any year during the continuance of the concern. In 1841 the vield had fallen as low as 10 tuns, the enterprise being thereafter abandoned. During the nine years the station was in existence it earned £14,820 for oil alone. In addition there was the value of the whalebone, of which no account appears to have been kept. The European population averaged from seventy-five to eighty. In 1834 an American ship, the "Columbus," visited the harbour, and during its stay—the length of which is not given—it managed to catch whales equal to 200 tuns of oil. During 1843 nineteen vessels visited the harbour, mostly French, for what purpose is not said.

Rough and rowdy as the whaler of these days undoubtedly was, it is now admitted he exercised an important influence upon the civilisation of the place, so much so that it is a question whether he or the missionary rendered most effective service. One thing seems certain: he was, perhaps all unknown to himself, an important coadjutor in the work. He intermarried with the Native tribes, learned something of their language, and picked up a good deal of valuable information as to their manners and customs. On the other hand, the Maori was not slow in perceiving immense personal advantages on the side of the pakeha, as he named the European, and in that way the presence of a pakeha amongst them began to be reckoned a desideratum. He reconciled the Maori mind to the presence of the stranger pakeha, and so paved the way for the advent of the missionary, and eventually the European settler. It is only right these things should be understood, as we have all along been accustomed to treat the memory of the whaler with reproach.

The whale-station stood in much the same relations to the colony now occupied by the port of call. All communication with the outside world passed through it, and it was the sole port of entry for everything in the shape of in-brought stores. Inland tribes were in the habit of paying periodicals visits, and in that way they were brought to see the white man possessed resources which would be of immense advantage to them if they succeeded in making him their ally.

Shortland, Protector of Aborigines, visited the harbour in January, 1844, and he tells us that the Natives navigating the East Coast were in the habit of going inland to the head of Otakou, and, dragging their canoes across the intervening belt of sand, relaunched them into the ocean, continuing their voyage southward. In following that plan they avoided Cape Saunders, which seems then, as now, to have been a spot dreaded by the mariner.

"Entering the heads and crossing the bar," says a writer in a recent review, "you steam up a fine sheet of water to Port Chalmers—the Leith of this second Edinburgh. The banks run up steep on each side; on the left, the gleaming slopes of sand at the Maori Kaik; on the right, grassy or wooded declivities, where soft greens, even in midsummer, must surely be a delightful refreshment to the eyes of thirsty Australians accustomed to the parched and dusty hills and plains of their own continent. The communication between Port Chalmers and Dunedin is so rapid and constant that the port is practically a suburb of Dunedin. Until lately, all large vessels have had to load and unload at the Port, the freight being conveyed from and to Dunedin by a line of rail, which runs along the north side of the bay. Now, however, that the operations of the Harbour Board have been brought to a certain stage of completion, large vessels can sail or steam up the bay and find a berth alongside the Dunedin Wharf. A great deal yet remains to be done before Dunedin is all that can be desired, or all that is possible as a port of call for large vessels; but to the merchant and shipping interest it is a subject of congratulation that large steamers, like those belonging to the Union Steamship Company, are able to bring their freights of cargo and passengers direct to the city wharf."

Note 3.—Arrow River.

This river takes its rise from the snows on Mount Hyde, and after a crooked course through a succession of deep gorges, during which it receives several tributaries, all proved to be highly auriferous, it emerges into open country at Arrowtown, and after a further course of six miles along the base of the Crown Ridge it joins the Kawarau. The distance in a straight line from the most remote source of the Arrow to its mouth is fifteen miles, but the course by the river will be a few more.

Note 4.—The Lakes Trade by Southland.

In his address to the Provincial Council, dated 21st February, 1863, the Hon. Dr. Menzies, Superintendent, remarks: "Since the date of last meeting a very rich goldfield has been opened out near the borders of this province, on the shores of Lake Wakatipu. The facilities of access to the lake from the Southland ports, as compared with that from any port elsewhere, gave the control of the trade with the population, which rapidly increased on the field, to the merchants of this place—the supplies having for the most part and for some time almost exclusively, been sent from this province. Many of the miners there have gone from Southland, and a number of gold-buyers from thence also."

Note 5.—The Lakes District.

In his capacity as Protector of Aborigines, Mr. Edward Shortland, M.A., visited the southern districts in the year 1844. Returning north, he travelled overland from Waikouaiti, then a whaling-station, to Akaroa. At the Waitaki River, the boundary-line between Canterbury and Otago, he was delayed some days in consequence of the flooded state of the river. He seems to have camped at a Maori pa, built on the Otago side, somewhere near the mouth. The chief man of the tribe or hapu was named Huruhuru. He is described as being a most intelligent Maori, possessed of a great deal of information relative to the tribes. From Huruhuru Mr. Shortland learned that inland, about nine days' journey from the east, and not more than two days from the west, coast, there were four large lakes. One of these the Maori named Wakatipu, which, he added, had long been celebrated for the pounamu (greenstone) found on its banks. The names of the other three were Oanaka, Hawea, and Wairaki. The two first are easily identified as the Wanaka and Hawea of our own day. The Wairaki is not so readily accounted for. In the sketch referred to below it is set down as a separate lake or basin. From its position, however, the Surveyor-General of New Zealand—Percy Smith, Esq.—has no doubt it is represented by Dublin Bay and Stevenson's Arm. Being a through branch of the Wanaka, it might be readily mistaken for a separate lake by any one who had not thoroughly explored the country; so that it detracts very little from the general accuracy of the Maori's plan. In earlier times Huruhuru had, so he informed Mr. Shortland, relations who resided in the neighbourhood of these lakes, and he and his tribe repeatedly visited them, and were in the habit of making excursions from thence to Lake Wakatipu in search of pounamu. The description given of the country in the neighbourhood of these lakes led Mr. Shortland to conclude that it was largely composed of grassy plains, well adapted for depasturing sheep. Founding his assumptions on that information, he writes: "The lofty range of hills separating them from the sea-coast, and the absence of harbour accommodation between Banks Peninsula (Akaroa) and Otakou (Otago), would be a serious impediment to the profitable export of wool. We may, however," he adds, "relegate the whole question to another century, when this deserted land will no doubt be peopled, the plains grazed on by numerous flocks of sheep, and the streams, now flowing idly through remote valleys, compelled to perform their share of labour in manufacturing the wool." Barely half a century has elapsed and the prediction has been fulfilled, not certainly in the full measure of capacity, but quite up to the letter of the prophecy. What the state of matters may prove when the fullness of the time has come is a problem which can only be surmised. Over a considerable portion of the route identical with that traversed by this "noble savage" in his fishing and pounamu researches the iron horse of modern civilisation now goes "snorting" along, affording easy economical access to the harbour accommodation, then deplored as lying beyond reach. Not only so, but enterprise and ingenuity have grappled successfully with the difficulty on its merits. This inhospitable coast-line now boasts of two available harbours of refuge, so that the reproach cast upon it from Shortland's point of view no longer remains à propos of the question. Before parting with his Maori friend, Mr. Shortland got Huruhuru to sketch a plan, in pencil, of the Lakes District. The original has become one of the antiquarian records of the colony, a tracing from which is annexed hereto.

This, then, is the first mention made on record of the now-famed southern lakes system. As a district it has contributed its quota to the pastoral, agricultural, and mineral importance of the colony; and, still, we know its capacity in that respect has only just been tapped. In mineral wealth alone its stores are inexhaustible. Every new process, every fresh appliance, in the art and science of mining, goes step by step towards establishing the fact. Its great strength, however, as a district lies in what may be termed its colonising schemes. Year by year these lake-lands attract thousands of sightseers and novelty-hunters to New Zealand shores, and, through them, a knowledge of the country at large—its position and its prospects—is disseminated all over the world. Being otherwise disinterested, the information so gleaned is very properly accepted as being strictly impartial. In that way a suitable class for settlement purposes is eventually secured, and the commercial relations of the colony built up and established on their more permanent basis.

Mr. James McKerrow, elsewhere referred to as one of the earliest and most enterprising of our southern explorers, writes: "The most marked and striking feature in the configuration of the country is the great and sudden differences of elevation that diversify its surface. These elevations take the form of mountain-ridges, and the depressions that of gorges, valleys, and rocky basins, the latter filled by lakes. The mountains rise from 4,000ft. to 9,000ft. above sea-level; and, as the line of perpetual congelation is 8,000ft. above sea-level, it follows that all elevations greater than 8,000ft. are within the glacier-producing zone. The Earnslaw Glacier, although covering only about a square mile in extent, is still, on account of its position, a very imposing object. It lies on the south side of Earnslaw, at an elevation of from 9,000ft. down to the melting-point. The mountain mass of the country may be described as lying north-northeast and south-south-west, and, that being directly athwart the track of the almost-constant winds from the Pacific Ocean, their influence on the climate may be considered as of the highest importance. Not only do they break the force of those winds, but their cloud-tops condense the vapours into showers that might otherwise pass over so narrow an island without parting with a drop. The height of the ridges causes the outfall on them to take the form of snow, which lies on them during the greater part of the year. This circumstance, by accumulating over long periods what would otherwise run off in streams as it fell, is the prime cause of the great, sudden, and, at first sight, inexplicable floods that characterize all the rivers that have their source in high mountains. Change of temperature is the secondary and immediate cause; but, while that is the case, a flood may occur without any great or perceptible increase of temperature, for the wind, by transporting the snow to a lower altitude, occasions the same effect as a rise in temperature,"

In anticipation of the importance of this district, when the railway system of New Zealand was first mooted provision was made, by common consent, for a line leading to this then wilderness. Its attractions in luxury and novelty soon secured for it public favour, and now it has become one of the most popular lines in the colony. It brings this wonderland within a day's journey of the seaboard, and opens up a succession of mountain, lake, and river scenery, which, appeals at once, with irresistible force, to every admirer of nature's grandest works. The lakes themselves are traversed by handsome steam fleets, and, where a land-journey supervenes, coach and posting arrangements are provided. In that way the New Zealand traveller is enabled to leave the Main Trunk Line at one point, and, after making a detour inland, taking in the whole of the lakes system, rejoin it again at another point without retracing a step en route. If necessary, the entire journey can be accomplished in three days; but the chances are that the traveller will prefer to linger awhile amidst these picturesque wilds, instead of merely rushing round, as would be necessitated in a three days' journey.

This is what is known as the grand tour of the Southern Lakes. It has numberless offshoots—alpine climbing, branch lake, river, cove, and bay explorations—all of which are fully detailed in the local guide-books. Profiting by the experience of the tourists' purveyors of older countries, tariff rates on a reasonable scale have been struck, so that visitors to these parts need be under no apprehension of being subjected to the imposition and artifice practised at one time by "mine Highland host."

Extending from the foot of the Frankton branch of the Wakatipu at its outlet into and flanked by the upper reaches of the Kawarau River there is 10,000 acres in one block of agricultural country. It consists of a terrace-flat and several alluvial flats situated between the Shotover and Arrow Rivers. The elevation above sea-level is set down at from 800ft. to 1,000ft. In some situations this elevation would have a bleak effect, but all tendency that way as regards this country is counteracted by the high mountains which encircle it. Not only do they afford shelter, but the radiation of heat from them has at times a very sensible effect on the increase of temperature. So wrote the then District Surveyor twenty-eight years ago, when the foot of the white man had been planted for the first time in the place. He also adds, "I have no doubt, taking the climate and fertility of the soil as they are, that either cereals or vegetables would, if properly attended to, grow well, and arrive at maturity." The writer has lived to see his predictions of 1863 abundantly verified, magnificent crops of wheat being now yearly harvested on the Crown Terrace at an altitude of 1,800ft. above the sea.

Lakes County contains a resident population of 2,919. It depastures 142,823 sheep, 4,157 cattle, and 2,056 horses. Its agricultural capacities are as follows: Wheat, 1,791 acres, producing 51,851 bushels; oats, 2,977 acres, producing 129,122 bushels; barley, 962 acres, producing 30,187 bushels; hay, 457 acres, producing 888 tons; potatoes, 197 acres, producing 1,732 tons. Other crops represent an area of 3,875 acres, besides which there are grass lands representing 10,547 acres.

Note 6.—Ben Lomond.

"Looking down from Ben Lomond at the northern arm of the lake, it seemed like a huge amphitheatre. The water lay at our feet, a sheet of glass broken only by the islands, and backed by the great snow-covered ranges, which stand in vast array, towering over all, and glistening in the morning's sun. The lower part of the ranges was clothed with trees and rank ferns down to the water's edge, whilst two large rivers, named respectively the Rees and the Dart, emptied themselves into the upper end of the lake, after running through a considerable plain, which stretches from side to side, a vast shingle-waste with a birch-clad hill shaped like a pyramid standing in the centre thereof. No better set-off to the lights and shadows of the snow regions behind could have been found than the dark sombre peak with its black-birch-clothed side. Even Duncan MacAusland himself was induced to acknowledge that Loch Lomond and the Trossachs with all their beauty were not a patch on this." So wrote one who took an active intelligent interest in the first effort to establish settlement on the Wakatipu. Since then he has been far-travelled, and had favourable opportunities for studying the wonders of the world. Writing thereanent, he says, "I have gazed at the cold white tops of the Alps as they blushed in acknowledg-mentacknowledgment of the sun's first kiss; and, standing high up on St. Marie's at Venice, I have seen the sun rise from the bosom of the Adriatic and spread over the shipping and cupolas of the Queen of the Sea, a sheet of burnished gold; but, lovely as these all were, they failed to put me in such a rhapsody of admiration for our beautiful world as did that grand and glittering scene which I saw for the first time from the Elbow Peak of Ben Lomond."

But what, it will be asked, about the sentiments of the less rhapsodical Duncan MacAusland? We have a word to say about him too, and we speak it with 'bated breath, as he is not here to answer fox himself. On him the silence of the tomb has been imposed. He was a lad from Lomond, the country of the wild MacGregors, who nestled under the lofty Ben which figures so largely in the account rendered of the queen of Scottish lakes. We first hear of him keeping company with Donald, a sure-footed, shaggy Shetland pony, on whose back Duncan's blankets and tucker stores were strapped. They must have made a well-matched pair, and it is questionable if Old Mortality and his short-legged nag ever found more striking representation, either at Home or abroad. Thus accoutred, Duncan and Donald' scaled the mountain-walls in search of a route for conveyance of a herd of cattle to the upper reaches of the Wakatipu. Getting higher and higher, Duncan became alive to a species of infatuation within himself, and by the time he reached the mountain-top Donald must have been astonished, if there was aught that could astonish that sagacious brute, to hear his master burst out in song, the refrain being—

And thus among the rocks he lived, Through summer's heat and winter's snow; The eagle was the lord above, And Rob was lord below.

That was the little leaven that leaveneth the whole lump. The now-inspired Duncan saw in his mind's eye the fatal Fruin, the glen of sorrow, with its fierce MacGregors slashing away at the sons of Loss, while the wicked old mouse-coloured Dugald Cair Mhor gave a finishing stroke to the hapless student band who came all the way from Dumbarton to witness the fight.

Further afield Duncan MacAusland saw—for we had the narrative from his own lips-—what is known as Pigeon Island, but what in these primitive days presented to his enchanted view a fac simile of the Inchcailloch of Loch Lomond, a rock on which the irrepressible Rob Roy imprisoned the Montrose family factor, after appropriating the terminal rents, amounting to £300, collected by the latter, and afterwards demanded as ransom for the imprisoned factor a further sum of 3,400 merks Scotch. Then, again, there was the valley of the Von, with its horse-track leading to what is now named Lake Mavora. To Mr. MacAusland's enraptured gaze this was identical with the Pass of Ballmaha, through which the redoubtable Rob made his raids on the lands of Kippon and the Strath of Blane, carrying these incursions on one occasion as far as the Fords of Frew.

Such were the surroundings—or rather we should call them the baptismal rites—with which Ben Lomond, of the Wakatipu, received its name; Duncan MacAusland, the lad from Lomond, acting as high priest, and Donald the shaggy Shetlander standing godfather.

We are almost sorry Duncan did not see fit to set his own sign-manual on one or other of these mighty headstones. However, it is creditable to him that in dealing out the honours he did not neglect his faithful four-footed servitor, Donald. Selecting a mountain torrent, one of those rough rubbly waterspouts peculiar to these uplands, he named it Moke Creek in honour of Donald and in friendly recognition of Donald's uncouth coat.

A word more about Duncan and Donald. Many years ago Duncan abandoned the Wakatipu and became a thriving settler at the Clutha. When the through railway-line to the Wakatipu was completed Duncan was sadly perplexed. He remarked, "I cannot understand it, nor will I believe it until I see it. I'm fain to see my auld cuddie Donald, so I'll tak' a run on the rail as far as the lakes." One of his great hobbies was watching the river. "It's risen an inch an' a half sin' yestreen," he would say. "Now, that's Ben blawing his nose. Tha' cauld nichts hae gi'en him a touch o' the influenza. He'll keep snortering about for the next day or twa." Having diagnosed the case of the river, what was more natural than that he should have been elected without opposition a member of the River Board?—a position he occupied with credit down to the close of his life. The day of his death the river suddenly and unaccountably rose a foot and a half, the popular impression being that the lofty Ben Lomond dropped a tear on the occasion in memory of an old friend, Duncan MacAusland.

Every dog has his day, and so it was with the sagacious Donald. Many a load of tucker he packed safely away to the outlying diggings. Others of his compeers were cleaner-limbed and fleeter-footed, but they all got into trouble barring Donald. One would get bogged to the belly in a swamp; one and another went down the Shotover, and never came up again; and the number was legion that tumbled down precipices, breaking their necks, backs, and legs indiscriminately. Getting worn out, Donald got superannuated, and, adds our informant, "If I am not mistaken, late in life he became the property of the District Gold-receiver, Mr. Worthington." In recognition of his long and faithful services to the district, he was allowed to roam about at his own free will. He had the freedom of the city after the City of the Lakes became a corporate town; at all events, the by-law against stray cattle was never enforced against him. On only one occasion is he known to have abused his liberties, and even then he was more sinned against than sinning. On that occasion Donald was not only led astray, he was literally driven astray. The late Mr. Thomas Luther Shepherd, representing the goldfields boroughs at the time, invited his constituents to meet him in the Town Hall, Queenstown. During the evening Donald put in an appearance; but it was evident from the first that he did not go there of his own free will and accord. At the Resident Magistrate's Court next morning the police were able to show Donald was not to-blame. Indeed, the real offender admitted the charge, pleading as an excuse that, Donald being the near approach to a donkey, be should be present to take part in the proceedings. It was a mean trick, backed up by a still meaner plea put forward in extenuation. The Magistrate very properly fined the real offender smartly, so that, virtually speaking, Donald left the Court without a stain on his character.

Note 7.—Bluff Harbour.

The locality of Bluff Harbour was known from the earliest date of New Zealand discoveries. The existence of the harbour, however, remained unknown for many years. This is no doubt due to the fact of the through passage by Foveaux Strait not having been discovered until a much later period; consequently vessels cruising along the coast kept well out to sea in preference to getting in amongst the Ruapuke Group, which lay nearer the coast. Then, again, the coast-line for many miles north of the harbour being a low sandy beach, a break therein might easily escape notice. The headland known as Bluff Hill, however, must have attracted attention long before the existence of the harbour was thought of. In some of the earlier charts it is set down as Cape Bernardine, and in one of the earliest narratives it is alluded to by that name.

About the year 1812 New Zealand flax appears to have been brought under notice of the Sydney merchants. A variety of experiments were made, and two expeditions fitted out to proceed to New Zealand and report upon the growth of the plant. One expedition went to the north, landing at the Bay of Islands; the other, conducted by two men named Jones and Gordon, visited the South Island, landing at the Bluff. This was in the month of April or May, 1815. We may therefore assume the harbour was known in Sydney prior to that date. The object of their mission was to ascertain the probable area of the flaxfields, and report as to the probability of rendering them a profitable branch of enterprise. The ship in which this excursion was made was named the "Perseverance." Returning to Sydney a few months afterwards, they rendered but a poor account of the prospects. The extent of flax, they said, was not considerable, as it only occupied the beach side of a large lagoon, and a small quantity on the sandy shore extending along the harbour to the west. This would seem to indicate pretty accurately that they were on the A warn a flats, in the vicinity of the large lagoon to the north of the harbour. They do not seem to have been at all an enterprising pair, otherwise they could have had no difficulty in ascertaining that the country along the New River plains was one vast area of flax. What would seem to confirm that opinion is a further paragraph written by the explorers to the effect that, the weather being excessively severe, with heavy falls of sleet and rain, which commenced the beginning of May, the work progressed most unsatisfactorily. They seem to have made one experiment, however, from which they report a yield of about half a ton of its own weight when the flax was undressed. It is not by any means a lucid expression, but its meaning evidently is that a ton of green flax yielded half a ton of dressed material. Speaking of the resident Natives, they stated they were very civil and very obliging, and seemed willing to assist as far as they could. Indeed, it is to the credit of the Natives throughout the South that their conduct to the European is invariably spoken of in the highest praise. One instance of an opposite character, in which the entire crew of a sealing craft was cut off, with the exception of a lad, who was saved by having caught hold of a chief under tapu, occurred. That, however, happened in the south of Stewart Island, and a certain mystery surrounds the circumstances. Altogether the southern tribes are to be congratulated on the generally good estimation in which their ancestry was held.

Allusions are made about this time to some of the surrounding districts. One party we are told, having crossed Foveaux Strait, discovered an excellent harbour, to which they gave the name of the Macquarie. It is described as lying N.N.E. from Port William (Stewart Island). This is now known as Jacob's River, and is the site of the town of Riverton. Neither the river nor the district appears to have sustained the Macquarie name for any length of time. It is now called Jacob's River in respect to an old whaler of that name who had taken up his abode on its banks. It is likewise known by the name given to it by the Maoris—viz., the Aparima. The Waiau, further to the southward, appears at this time to have been known as the Knowsley River.

Bluff afterwards became a celebrated whaling-station. In 1835 it was reported to be one of the best-managed and most successful stations on the coast. Its boats were all partly, and, in one instance, wholly, manned by Natives. A young chief, Pu atuki or Topi, was headsman, and no boat's crew could possibly have been prouder of their man than the Maoris were of the young chief. Between 1838 and 1840 the station, owned by the well-known John Jones, earned a total of 198 tuns of oil, valued at £2,376. Some of the neighbouring stations did even better. The Toitois in 1835 achieved the great whaling feat of the day: in eleven days they caught no fewer than seventeen fish. Unfortunately the party had not sufficient casks, and a great portion of the oil was lost. Afterwards, we are told, when they had provided themselves with casks, no more whales were caught, and thereafter the station was abandoned.

Another recorded incident in the early history of the harbour is that down to the year 1840 a somewhat striking character had his abode at the Bluff. He was named Spence. He had long been resident in the country, and was said to have acquired considerable means from the sale of rum. He measured 6ft. 2in., and lived in the enjoyment of connubial bliss to the extent of two wives. He had a military deportment, and boasted having been in action at Waterloo. It was whispered that he arrived in the colony by way of Sydney Cove, the assumption being that at some period in his history his fair fame had been slightly blemished. He occupied a weather-boarded house of some pretensions as housing ranked in these days. Thirty years ago it was still to the fore, but, like its owner and occupant, it has long since been levelled with the ground.

Bluff Harbour, situated in latitude 46° 36′ south, longitude 166° 22′ east, is a harbour of great natural excellence, and commands a larger area of valuable back country, and a longer range of sea coast, than almost any other in New Zealand, Lyttelton, perhaps, alone being excepted, on the ground of the wide area of agricultural land under cultivation in the central part of Canterbury. The geographical position of Bluff Harbour, when taken in connection with the area and depth of water in the estuary, is certainly such as to justify the prediction that it is destined to become, at any rate, one of the chief southern harbours of New Zealand. As regards the South Island, it is the first port of arrival from, and the last for departure to, Tasmania, Victoria, and Europe; it is no further distant from Sydney than Manukau, which may be regarded as the western watergate of Auckland, or than New Plymouth at the south-western extremity of the North Island; it is even nearer to Sydney than Wellington. Both as regards general commerce and as a mail-packet station for the South Island, Bluff Harbour, therefore, possesses unusual advantages. The area of the Awarua Estuary, in which this harbour is situated, is 21¾ square miles at high-water mark, the quantity of tidal water passing in and out through the entrance at ordinary spring tides is no less than 104,250,000 tons. The entrance is unencumbered by any bar, and is so situated that its aspect is upon the weather shore. There are two channels leading into and out from the harbour; the principal of these runs nearly north and south, the other east and west. The harbour and its entrance have been well buoyed, and there is a signal-station on the summit of Bluff Hill, with which vessels requiring pilots or instructions should communicate, or, failing that, with the station on Starling Point. Both signal-stations are connected by telephone to the Harbour Offices. A fixed white light is exhibited from a small vessel placed in the narrowest part of the entrance. The Straits outside the harbour are well lighted by the following lighthouses: Puysegur Point on the northern shore, Centre Island on the western entrance to the Straits, Waipapa Point, on the north-north-east shore, and Dog Island Lighthouse, east-south-east of the harbour. The port is possessed of a powerful steam tug, which will go out to vessels signalling for it from the Strait, and is owned by the Bluff Harbour Board. The wharfage accommodation is 1,700ft., and the depth of water alongide the wharf, corrected to low springtides, is as follows: 372ft. of wharf, 24ft.; 400ft., 19ft.; 500ft., 18ft.; and 400ft. 17ft. deep. These depths are being gradually increased by a Priestman dredge, which is kept almost constantly at work. The Harbour Board is continually adding to the wharves, and at present have a contract under way for 225ft. of wharfage extension.

The wharf is about a mile and a half from the course of vessels coming either from the eastward or the westward, and is protected from westerly and southwesterly gales by the high ranges at the back of Campbelltown, down the sides of which several small creeks run into the harbour, and from which a supply of fresh water has been provided for the shipping. Campbelltown, on the northern side of the Bluff, is the port of Southland, and has large stores for grain, which is shipped in quantities for the Australasian Colonies and Europe; there are also two frozen-meat works, from which extensive quantities of frozen meat are shipped to Great Britain. Besides grain and frozen mutton, large quantities of wool, hides, tallow, rabbit-skins, timber, and preserved fish and rabbits, are annually exported to Great Britain and other countries.

Water and ships' supplies are abundant: fresh beef, 2½d. per lb.; vegetables, 2d. per lb., potatoes vary from 1s. to 5s. per cwt.

Stevedores are available, their usual charge being 1s. 3d. per hour, and 2s. per hour overtime. Stone ballast can be purchased at 4s. 6d. per ton, which includes railage to the ship's side, and vessels arriving in ballast generally dispose of the same to the Railway Department, the ship paying haulage at the rate of 1s. per ton.

During the fourteen years, ending 31st December, 1891, the Bluff Harbour Board has been in operation, its ordinary revenues amounted to £72,953; ordinary working expenses to £34,602; leaving a balance for new works, plant, engineering charges, interest on loan, and contributions to sinking-fund of £34,602. These revenues steadily increased from £1,945 in 1881, to £11,998 in 1891. During late years the increase has been most marked. It rose from £7,184 in 1890 to £11,998 in 1891. The expenditure for the last-named year did not exceed £3,305, as against £2,903 the preceding year.

The shipping entered inwards during the fourteen years mentioned represented a total of 1,855,125 tons, the rate of progress being 71,744 tons in 1878 and 216,789 tons in 1891. With one single exception, and that not involving more than one hundred tons, each succeeding year represents an increase on the year preceding. It rose from 180,801 tons in 1890 to 216,789 the following year.

Note 8.—Devil's Staircase.

Not fewer than three landmarks in Otago are dedicated to the wicked one. They are the Devil's Backbone at the Little Beaumont, the Cauldron on the Kawarau, and the Staircase at the Wakatipu. Neither can be said to be utterly depraved, not even beyond all hope of redemption. It is true the Staircase precipitated a mob of fine fat cattle belonging to squatter Rees down headlong to destruction; but then, if early transgressions are to be kept in lasting remembrance for the final account, it might go hard with other places, and persons too, besides the Staircase. The Lakes District County Council, I am told, has wrought a great reformation, so much so that a good passable saddle-track has now been made right over the ridge. I am rather disposed to think these hard names are not altogether warrantable, and are in a great measure characteristic of the person and not the place. Consequent upon the outbreak of the goldfields, the district was overrun with a class named the Young Iniquity, in contradistinction to the early settlers named in the narrative the Old Identity. This juvenile depravity has long since disappeared, leaving little else behind than the two or three undesirable names by which it designated these and other places.

The first European known to have crossed the Staircase was a man named Green, said to be brother to the celebrated sculler in New South Wales of that name. He was a ship's carpenter by trade, and had just completed a job for Mr. Rees. Returning down-country by way of Southland he got benighted on the Staircase, and had to put in a night amongst the rocks. Of course that put him in rather a bad frame of mind. Arriving at Dome Pass station, he related his troubles, in the course of which he remarked, "It came on as dark as blazes, and I tried my best to get down the hill, but it seemed to me I was stepping down to h—ll by the devil's staircase; so I held on to the rock by the skin of my teeth till day-dawn." Accordingly, it was seen, Mr. Green had established claims in connection with the ridge. The first idea was to satisfy these by naming it "Hold-on-to-the-Rock-by-the-Skin-of-the-Teeth." On more mature reflection it was felt there was too much of the foreign graft in that designation to make it generally acceptable. Then, to name it "Black as Blazes" was open to a similar objection; so that the station people were in a manner forced to call it the Devil's Staircase, or else abandon what they conceived to be their bounden duty to Mr. Green. For the time being it put them in an awkward fix. They were Free-Kirk-of-Scotland settlers, and as such were bound to renounce the devil and his works. On the other hand, they could not well ignore what they felt to be a righteous claim without doing violence to their conscientious scruples. These explanations are rendered necessary in defence of the integrity of the early settlers, by whom this unhallowed name was at first sanctioned.

It may be some slight satisfaction to Mr. Green to know, if he be still within the knowledge of sublunary affairs, that he is not the only man who spent an uncomfortable night on the Devil's Staircase. A few years later, when Bill Fox had taken up the lakes trade, two individual members of society shipped in the "Nancy" for Kingston. They were strangers to each other, but in one respect at least they bore striking resemblance to one another: Dame Fortune had been playing scurvily by them, and both looked remarkably well out at the elbows. Getting out into the fairway, the schooner could not manage to pick up a breath of wind, and, after flapping her sails idly for some hours, the two voyagers were put on shore, with the injunction to keep the track and they would be sure to find Kingston. Arriving at the Staircase, the short winter's day gave out altogether, and a dark dismal night ensued. The joint resources of the pair consisted of a few scraps of bread and a handful of dry tea. These were soon devoted to their legitimate purposes, and as there happened to be a supply of timber at hand the wherewithal for a good fire was easily procurable. Hitherto my companion — for the fact is I was of the luckless pair - seemed rational enough, not over-communicative, but seemingly kindly disposed and considerate. Now, however, he became absolutely frenzied, yelling, bawling, and muttering by turns the most hideous nonsense. His mutterings seemed to be about the devil following him in the shape of a moa, and nothing would convince him but that the evil spirit was lurking about watching an opportunity to pounce down on him. He had a tomahawk, and with it he went rushing about in a terrible state of excitement, literally foaming at the mouth. Then, again, he would throw himself flat on the ground, tearing at the scrub with his bands and teeth. This went on with little or no intermission for some hours; and how he escaped being precipitated into the lake is a marvel. At last the wretched man seemed to get exhausted, and, coiling himself up like a dog, went to sleep under a flax-bush. Few men, I believe, ever spent a night of greater horrors. The extraordinary part of the affair is that in the morning he got up with the first streak of dawn, raked the embers together, lit his pipe, and boiled a pannikin of water as calm and deliberately as if nothing had occurred. Indeed, he asked how I had put in the night, remarking that he himself had had a good sound snooze. Evidently he remembered nothing whatever of what had occurred. It was subsequently ascertained he had been what, in digging parlance, is known as a "hatter," working and living all alone on the upper branches of the Shotover. His mind, as too often happens under these circumstances, had given way, and, being charged with lunacy, the Magistrate committed him for treatment. He had only been liberated the day before taking his passage in the "Nancy."

It has been already remarked that early Otago reminiscences redound, as a rule, to the credit of the Maori. Another incident of this nature occurred on the lake immediately under the Staircase. A whaleboat, containing two gentlemen named Mitchell and Rogers and a Maori named Jack, was making for Kingston when it was caught by a squall and upset. Rogers was drowned; but, after a terrible struggle extending over two hours, Mitchell was got ashore by the efforts of the Maori, who was a most expert swimmer, and who, instead of providing for his own safety, kept nobly by until Mitchell was safe on shore. Mitchell by this time was in a dreadfully exhausted state, and could not be got to move. Divesting himself of part of his clothing, Maori Jack dried them as well as he could, and, having placed them over Mitchell, set off as fast as possible to procure assistance. He made a wonderful journey, considering that the greater part of it was performed over country destitute of either tracks or bridges, and that, too, during the dead of a winter's night. It was not until an advanced hour of the day following Jack arrived back with assistance. Taking all the circumstances into consideration, they were fully prepared to find that Mitchell had expired in the interim from exhaustion and exposure. And so undoubtedly he would but for the fact that shortly after the Maori left a bush-dog came sniffing around, and, despite his feeble endeavours to drive it off, lay down on the top of him, and remained there until the rescue party arrived next day, when it took itself off into the bush. It was ascertained this good Samaritan was a collie-pup which had made its escape from the station the year previously, and could never be found. Mitchell, who was a military man, afterwards, I believe, joined the field forces in the Maori war. Maori Jack's bravery excited admiration, as it well deserved. His admirers started him on the road as a teamster, and he was well known in Invercargill for many a day in connection with the Lakes carrying-trade. The facts of his case having reached the Humane Society, he was subsequently awarded the society's medal, a decoration of which Jack was immensely proud.

Note 9.—Queenstown.

An early visitor states that the buildings at the Home station where Queenstown now stands were represented by a futter and a long narrow hut of three rooms, a kitchen, with a small bedroom, and a large room with bunks built like the 'tween-decks of an emigrant ship. The resident population consisted of three men and one woman, who, among other duties, were employed making a vegetable-garden and planting potatoes. The futter was erected on posts, round which sheets of tin were nailed so as to prevent rats climbing up and getting in amongst the stores.

The second or Golden Period affords more graphic history, and reads in many respects like a fairy tale. Without exaggeration, or invocation in the name of the prophet, we behold a wilderness of water, a waste in territorial estate, suddenly quickened into life and activity as if a flash from the fire of Aladdin's wonderful lamp had illuminated these dark places of the earth. When the genie of this magic lamp first appeared to the bewildered gaze of the feckless lad into whose hands its treasure-trove had fallen the astonishment could not have been greater than when the tenants of the futter opened their eyes to the fact of a multitude — variously estimated at 15,000 and 26,000—having congregated around. And then, day by day, as the motley gathering spoke its wonderful experiences, only a very few of which, we may fairly conclude, have been kept in remembrance, the supernatural agencies of the lamp must have been forced home to their minds in the light of a reality. At a distance less than ten miles from the futter, on the site of what is now the Shotover Bridge, long dreaded as the Shotover crossing, one party averaged 24oz. of gold per day from the beach-workings, and numbers admitted having made from 3oz. to 4oz. on beaches conterminous thereto. A dishful of débris at Skipper's panned off 80oz. With the rudest possible appliances half an ounce was estimated a poor day's work. A disputed piece of ground 6ft. long by 5ft. broad had a give-or-take valuation put upon it of £3,000. Fifty parties, engaged diverting the waters of an adjoining creek so as to get at the bed-rock, expended £15,000 in three months. In three days 176oz. were taken out of one claim on the Arrow Flat. Six tin dishfuls, washed consecutively, gave a total of 72oz. Six miners obtained 700oz. in six weeks, and another party of four realised 400oz. in eight weeks. Every stream running into the lake proved highly auriferous, and from the beds of some large fortunes were taken. A Swede with £2,500, two Welshmen with £3,000, a Yankee with £3,500, and an Englishman with a similar sum, left Skipper's Point after a few weeks' work. These men were all known to have been in impecunious circumstances when they arrived, and but for that fact their good fortunes would have attracted no particular notice. These and many other facts of a similar nature gave Wakatipu the name of the richest and most extensive diggings in the world.

Amidst these surroundings the futter, better known as the woolshed, started on the path to civic life. Its first move was characteristic of a desire to share in the spoil rather than provide for the legitimate wants of the populace. Hotels, or rather publichouse bars, sprang up on every side. There were two if not three theatres, besides goldfields dance-rooms in galore. One theatre became a most extensive establishment, with eight or ten liquor-bars, besides a huge bar-entrance. It did a roaring trade; and by way of keeping things going without interruption a reverend gentleman—parson Paul—with a number of aliases to his name, occupied the boards on Sundays. Paul was an ecclesiastical compound that defied competition. He had three or more diets per day. At the one he employed the Book of Common Prayer, at the other he chanted the sacrifice of the Mass, and then, by way of completing the national alliance, had recourse to the Psalms of David in metre. No provision for the spiritual wants of a mixed community could have been more complete. With ten or twelve liquor-bars in front of him, Paul was not expected to enforce strict temperance principles, either by precept or example. No matter how slip-shod Paul may have been, it was a fact he always managed to get through the services with a certain amount of decorum. When the place settled down, business quietened, and eventually the establishment was broken up. Its stage-fittings and painted boardings got distributed over the district, and for years there was hardly a building within miles of Queens town, but sported in its get-up some fragment of dramaturgy.

Queenstown of to-day is one of the most staid respectable towns in the Australian Colonies. No sooner did its goldfields trade slacken than it cultivated a profitable timber trade. That trade was established by a party of diggers—Messrs. J. W. Robertson and Company—who by dint of thrift and good judgment rose to be leading merchants. They built a large steamer—the "Antrim"—erected extensive sawmills, jetties, &c., so that the enterprise was conducted on a sound basis of commercial pursuit. Prior to the "Antrim," a small steamer named the "Nugget," originally an Otago harbour-boat, was carted up from Dunedin by bullock teams. That was the first steam craft that plied on the Wakatipu. It was owned by a company of three, of whom Mr. H. A. Gordon, Inspecting Engineer, New Zealand, was managing partner. It did not prove successful, and was shortly afterwards withdrawn from the trade. A second steamer, named the "Wakatipu," was put on. She was built on the lake, at Pigeon Island, but as a speculation proved still more unfortunate than the "Nugget." Before doing almost anything in the shape of business she sank at her moorings in Queenstown Harbour. The "Antrim" came next on the scene. Unlike her predecessors, she did a profitable trade—in fact, carried on for years the entire traffic. Now, however, a well-appointed steam fleet owned by the Wakatipu Steam Shipping Company has been established, in whose vessels both elegance and speed are combined.

It may be well to record here that the first boat actually built on the lake was built by one Green (see Note 8) to the order of Mr. Rees. There is reason to assume that prior to this Mr. Rees had a whaleboat, although it was not built on the spot. It is believed to have made its way by Southland to the Wakatipu. That was undoubtedly the first boat on the lake; but, on the other hand, it is equally undoubted the first boat built on the lake was the one made by Green. Mr. Rees himself reached the Wakatipu by the Waitaki country. He was accompanied by the well-known New Zealand explorer, Von Haast. They got to the lake over the Crown Range, Cardrona, arriving at the lower end of what is now called Frankton branch. To facilitate their movements they constructed mokihis, on which they paddled along the beach as far as Bob's Cove. The mokihi was merely a bundle of sticks, astride of which the voyageur sat, as if seated on the back of a horse, with his legs hanging down into the water. Propulsion was given by a piece of wood "paddled" first on one side and again on the other. As a modus operandi it must have been quite as primitive and even more exciting than the wooden-horse race so popular in the aquatic sports of our own day.

As a tourists' resort, Queenstown is now cultivating a large steadily-increasing traffic. It is centrally situated for all the great sights of the southern lakes, and, as such, thousands from all parts of the world annually flock to it.

Note 10.—The Timber Question.

As illustrative of the scarcity of timber on the Dunstan, the following is quoted from a report dated the 28th August, 1862, by the Sub-Inspector of Constabulary stationed on that field: "Fuel is scarce, and until timber can be obtained by means of rafts from the forests higher up the river the miners will be worse off for firing than at Tuapeka. This want is also a source of great disappointment to the miners, many of whom calculated on being able to construct cradles and sluices from the timber they were led to believe existed in the immediate neighbourhood."

Note 11.—The Natural Bridge.

It was on this occasion I came on what was known as the Natural Bridge of the Kawarau, where the rocks overhang the stream so far that one can jump across the gap. I remember that one of the Dunedin papers of that date refused to accord to me the honour of having been the first white man to stand on the natural bridge, because, according to Maori report, the bridge was said to be a complete arch without any gap in the middle. Some years afterwards, when the gold-diggers were wandering up in that direction in thousands, the natural bridge became the chief means for crossing from one side of the river to the other, the gap having been bridged over with plants; and when the editor of the same paper remembered, no doubt, his former unbelief, he must have admitted that I had been correct in thinking that I had been the first white man to stand on the historical bridge and gaze on the turbulent water that lashed itself into foam on the rugged rocks below.—[Notes made in 1860 by an early explorer.]

Note 12.—Kawarau Junction.

The junction of the two rivers Clutha and Kawarau form a peninsula, on the outer lip of which the Town of Cromwell is built. It originated with a ferry-house, which by degrees blossomed into a grog-shanty and general store. Both river-banks are very deep, averaging between 40ft. and 50ft. These, in and around the borough, have in many instances been scooped out by the hydraulic forces employed to aid in recovery of their mineral deposits. As a rule these deposits proved exceedingly rich, and Cromwell, now a corporate borough, has progressed under auspices of their developments. The gold deposit is still far from being worked out or exhausted, so that in its dependence on this resource alone Cromwell has not a bad future. But Cromwell has other resources to look to. It is the chief outlet for the Upper Clutha Valley, or, as it ought to have been named, Clydevale—a fine rich-soiled agricultural flat, extending from the Nevis and Carrick Ranges to the Wanaka and Hawea Lakes, a distance of at least forty miles. New Zealand has been slow to admit the importance of this country, as shown by the half-hearted way in which Otago Central Railway works have been carried on, but when that line is completed we venture to say its results will be a standing rebuke to this remissness. In Note 10 of this series, being an extract from an official report during the early days of the Dunstan, allusion is made to the scarcity of timber, and the hope is tacitly expressed that a raftage system for conveyance of fuel from the upland forests may soon be devised. Enterprise of that kind has long since been established, and some of the best New Zealand woods have found their way to the lower townships. The country in question has within itself all the staple resources of the New Zealand colony, and yet, strange to say, great portions of it remain unknown outside the pages of the tourist guide-book.

If Cromwell, as an incorporated town, had achieved no other purpose in life, the fact that it commemorates the hero of the Rump Parliament, and was instrumental in developing the latent genius of Captain William Jackson Barry, would be enough to place it beyond the immediate prospect of sinking into oblivion. Oliver Cromwell and his Protectorate we all know something of, and as for William Jackson Barry he is fast coming into notice. To such as have not had the pleasure of his acquaintance, we say emphatically he is a compound of the naked truth, the fag-end of a natural philosophy. Whether the prefix "Captain" to his name came to him in respect of military or marine services is not generally known. There are those who pretend to say it came to him by spontaneous combustion, and that he won his spurs by vanquishing the hero dubbed

Chief cook and bottle-washer,

Captain of the waiters.

These, Captain Barry asserts, are ill-informed people of spiteful disposition, who have not yet learned to appreciate him on his own merits. That, however, is wholly unimportant, and need not be recounted here. The captain's grand coup de grâce was the reception he gave Sir George Grey on the occasion of his viceregal visit to the goldfields. Captain Barry was at that time first Mayor of Cromwell, and it behoved him to do the civic honours on behalf of the Corporation to the best of his ability. How far ho succeeded let the impartial reader judge: After showing Sir George Grey round the municipality, and explaining the various objects of interest to his satisfaction, "Look here," said Barry; "you know a soft thing or two, Sir George, when you see it. What do you think of them there pigs of mine? Have a look at that Berkshire boar. He's one of my own breed. Ain't he a beauty? How would a rasher of that gentleman's flank go down with you? It would soften some of them horny-handed morsels that get sticking in your gizzard, I'll bet" "Just so, Mr. Mayor," said the polite Sir George, evasively. "It is of great importance for you to feel that you are actively employed raising the standards of life, and improving the bountiful provision made therefor. At our time of life, Mr. Mayor, it is a grand thing for us to be able to pause and reflect that we have been instrumental, under Providence, in elevating the masses, even although it should only be, as in your case, a mass of Berkshire pork." This speech so upset the old gentleman that he could hardly contain himself. "Sir George Grey," said he, "you're a brick! You're the man after my own heart, and soul, and body, and mind. If you'll just light up your dudeen and take things easy for a minute or two I'll give the boar a few inches of cold steel, and you can take his hind-quarters away with you as a present from old Jack Barry. It 'll make a capital roast. Just you gridiron it the same as the Canterbury runs, and, my conscience! what a blow-out you'll have for your Sunday's dinner! I think I'll go to Kawau and have a feed with you."

The great proconsul now began to feel a trifle small, and, looking round wistfully, saw his opportunity, and, with a feeling of thankfulness, made good his escape. That was the first and last viceregal visit paid to the Municipal Corporation of Cromwell. This did not end the adventure as regards the redoubtable Captain Barry. So much alarmed were the others that they called a special meeting of the Council for an evening when they knew the Mayor could not attend. At that meeting a resolution was passed conveying a vote of censure, and calling on the Mayor to resign. On the minutes coming up for confirmation at the ensuing regular meeting, the captain demanded the name of the Councillor who moved the motion. "I did," said the leader of the Opposition. Before he had time to draw another breath a blow from the captain's fist doubled him up into a corner, where he remained coiled round the coal-scuttle for the rest of the evening. "And who seconded this resolution?" demanded the captain. To this no answer was vouchsafed, not a word in reply being uttered. The silence was most profound, almost oppressive, until at length it was broken by the captain himself. "All right, gentlemen," said he; "this motion drops for want of a seconder; scratch it out, Mr. Secretary." Captain Barry retained peaceful possession of the chair until the next general election, and no further motion was made to oust him.

Note 13.—The Kawarau River.

The Kawarau is the issue of the Wakatipu Lake. Its exit is obstructed by masses of rock that divide its volume into several parts, that take the form of falls when the lake is high. For the first mile or two of its course the current is sufficiently slow to admit of cattle swimming easily across; afterwards it becomes more rapid. At the distance of nearly three miles from the lake it is joined by a river named the Shotover, and at a further distance of six miles by the Arrow. Lower down it enters an abrupt rocky gorge, through which it has a tortuous course of eighteen miles before entering the valley of the Clutha. After a' further course of five miles through, the Kawarau joins the Clutha just before the latter enters the gorge of the Dunstan Mountains. For further information see Notes 15 and 16.

Note 14.—Wanaka and Hawea Lakes.

Wanaka and Hawea Lakes district is mountainous, with ridges rising from 4,000ft. to 10,000ft. All elevations above 8,000ft. are covered with perpetual snow, and those between 6,500ft. and 8,000ft. are bare for only a short period

Sketch of The Lakes District By The Maori Chief Huruhuru, 1844.Sketch map of the Lake Wakatipu district, by Huruhuru

of the year. James McKerrow, Esq., formerly District Surveyor of Otago, now Chief Commissioner of New Zealand Railways, a close observer in relation to this and other matters connected with the exploration of the Otago Provincial District in its early days, makes the following remarks: "The time during which the survey of the place was executed was favourable for determining the height of the line above which the snow never melts. During the early part of March elevations of 7,000ft. had snow more or less on their summits; this gradually disappeared until there was none left. On the 24th March the summit of Mount Alba, which attains an elevation of 7,838ft., was free of snow, only a patch remaining on its shaded side; all elevations above 8,000ft., as seen from it, were white. A few days afterwards a shower which rained in the valleys, but snowed on the mountains, made Alta appear grey. This appearance continued until the 18th April, when it and several lesser elevations received their cap for the ensuing season. Each shower after that brought the snow-line further down, till the morning of the 18th May, when the snow-fall, which was general throughout the province, made valley and mountain alike white. The snow-line in its successive steps down the mountain-sides preserves an outline as even and as well defined as the line of shadow. In different seasons the snow-line will likely vary within the limits of a few hundred feet: for the latitude of 44½° S. it may be stated in round numbers at 8,000ft. The glaciers, in some instances, appear to be considerably lower than the snow-line: on the shaded side of Mount Alta, a little below the summit, there is one about five acres in extent and 3ft. in thickness. On the east side of Glacier Dome, and to the north and south respectively of the other two glacial domes, there is a sheetlike moss of glacier several square miles in extent, sloping down from these mountains, and stretching across and entirely filling up the ravine enclosed by them; on the east side, where no eminence opposes, it leaves the ravine and bends over the ledge of the ridge in an easy curve. Here the smooth evenness which it had in its upper part is supplaced by a sort of frizzled appearance, just as though a great waterfall had been suddenly frozen. The angle of depression from Mount Alta gives its centre elevation at 6,469ft. above sea-level. It was viewed from a distance of twelve miles. A ridge traversing to the line of sight hid its terminal face, but its immaculate whiteness and great extent rendered it, even at that distance, a grand, decided, and imposing spectacle. It was the largest unbroken mass of ice that was seen during the survey. It is one of the fountains of the east branch of the Matukituki. The glaciers of Mount Aspiring lie in shelf-like masses on the south and east sides of the mountains. None of them appear to be individually of large extent, though in the aggregate they cover twenty-five square miles. They lie principally in the ravines formed by torn, very sharp conical ridges—one running south from the peak for about eight miles, the other three parting off from it, at about equal distances to the east. Some of these glaciers appear to be as low as 4,000ft., and, as seen from the base of precipice on which they lie, about 30ft. in thickness. Mount Aspiring is flanked round the east, south, and west sides with precipices, which, to a casual inspection, offer no chance of ascent. The water of the lakes may all be said to be of glacial origin, for the rivers that flow into them drain a country from 6,000ft. to 10,000ft. high."

Note 15.—Clutha River.

This is par excellence the river of New Zealand. It is named after the River Clyde. The difference in articulation is due to the fact that the Highland instead of the Lowland pronunciation has been adopted. Strange as it may seem, the Clutha could supply thirty rivers like the Clyde and still have water in abundance to spare. This will appear from the fact that, whereas the latter discharges 48,000 cubic feet per minute, the discharge from the Clutha is 1,674,000 cubic feet. In the year 1867 the late Mr. J. T. Thomson, then Chief Surveyor, estimated the discharge as low as 275,565 cubic feet. That estimate was made at a time when he river was low; still, it is impossible to reconcile it with other measurements. Mr. Balfour, late Marine Engineer, whose observations were made about the same period, sets it down at 1,690,000 cubic feet. Subsequent inquiries prove these figures very nearly correct. The Inspecting Engineer, Mr. Gordon, gives the following as approximates: Minimum discharge, 837,000 cubic feet; maximum, 5,040,000 cubic feet; average, 1,674,000 cubic feet. The drainage-area comprised within the alpine regions beyond the junction of the Kawarau covers 8,000 square miles. These western latitudes are subject to a much heavier rainfall than those situated more easterly. That is explainable in the fact that the dividing-range and its offshoots, comprising the Southern Alps, are in the direct course of westerly weather, and its rain-clouds, depressed by overloads of moisture, get caught in the mountains. In that way their flood-gates are opened and the surcharges allowed to escape before they reach the easterly side. In token of that theory, which we may say is otherwise well authenticated, the rainfall registered at Hokitika, on the west coast, stood in the proportion of 120in. to 24in. registered for the same period at Christchurch, on the east coast. A reference to the chart will show these two places are situated almost parallel to each other at opposite sides of the island.

The position of the Clutha in relation to other great snow-rivers of the world will appear from the following: The Irawaddy, in Asia, has a minimum discharge per second of 84,000 cubic feet; maximum, 1,000,000 cubic feet; average, 350,000 cubic feet; its flood-discharge for 1877 amounted to a total of 466,120,288,940 meter-tons of 37 cubic feet; its catchment-basin is 158,000 square miles, and its length 900 miles. Brahmaputra: Minimum discharge, 146,000 cubic feet; maximum, 1,800,000 cubic feet; average, 520,000 cubic feet. The River Nile, at Assouan: Minimum, 24,000 cubic feet; maximum, 362,000 cubic feet; average, 101,000 cubic feet. River Ganges, 36,000, 494,000, and 141,000 cubic feet respectively.

The relation in which the Clutha stands to the other river-systems of the world will be made apparent by the following: The Missouri is 2,908 miles, with a drainage-area of 518,000 square miles. Its annual discharge is estimated at 3 78/100 billions—i.e., 3,780,000,000,000 cubic feet. Its mean discharge per second is 120,000 cubic feet. The elevation above sea-level ranges from 381ft. to 6,800ft. The Upper Mississippi, 1,330 miles, has a drainage-area of 169,000 square miles, and an annual discharge of 3 3⁄10 billions, or, per second, 105,000 cubic feet. Its elevation is from 381ft. to 1,680ft. The Ohio, 1,265 miles, has an area of 214,000 square miles; annual discharge, 5 billions, or, mean per second, 158,000 cubic feet; elevation, 275ft. to 1,649ft. Arkansas, 1,514 miles; area, 189,000 square miles; annual discharge, 2 billions, or, mean per second, 63,000 cubic feet; elevation, 162ft. to 10,000ft. Red River, 1,200 miles; area, 97,000 square miles; annual discharge, 1 8⁄10 billions, or, mean per second, 57,000 cubic feet; elevation, 54ft. to 2,450ft. Lower Mississippi, 1,286 miles; area, 1,244,000 square miles; annual discharge, 21 3⁄10 billions, or, mean per second, 675,000 cubic feet. The Danube, 1,722 miles, with a drainage-area of 234,000 square miles, has, at extreme low water, a current of 70,000 cubic feet per second; at ordinary low water, 125,000; at ordinary high water, 324,000; and during extraordinary floods averages 1,000,000 cubic feet. Its general average, based on observations made during a period of ten years, is set down at 207,000 cubic feet per second. The French river Loire, with a length of 626 miles, and a drainage-area of 44,979 square miles, has a maximum discharge of 353,000 cubic feet and a minimum of 10,600 cubic feet per second. It is described as a river having all the irregularities of the mountain-torrent. La Plata, in South America, has a length of 200 miles, with a drainage-area of 1,600,000 square miles, and a discharge of 52,000,000 cubic feet per minute. Its waters are easily recognisable sixty miles out to sea.

The discharge of water from the lakes into the three Clutha river-sources averages 1,554,000 cubic feet per minute, which leaves 120,000 cubic feet picked up from its tributary streams en route to the sea, so that, even although the flood-gates alluded to in Note 16 proved successful, the river would still have a water-supply equal to that amount. That would be a very small stream to contend with compared with the present volume, and would lay bare the river-banks to a depth of many feet, which have never been seen by the miner. Once reduced to these limits and we have no doubt the miner would find a way to get quit of the remainder so as not to be baffled in his endeavours for getting down to the bed-rock.

About the middle of the sixth decade of the present century, the Clutha being then at the lowest level to which it is known to have attained, the Chief Surveyor of the district registered the outfall at 275,865 cubic feet, which he sets down as a motive-power equal to 422,500-horse power nominal. This must have been just about the time Hartley and Riley made their wonderful discoveries at the Dunstan. The fall in the river from its inset at Lake Wanaka averages 10ft. per mile, which gives a through-length fall of 2,000ft. at the mouth. Its drainage-area—8,000 square miles—is exactly 2,838 miles in excess of the drainage-area of the Thames (England).

Mr. James McKerrow, formerly District Surveyor of Otago, whose early explorations and, considering the state of the country in these days, astonishingly-correct observations did far more towards settling the country and developing its resources than those of any other man, makes the following pertinent remarks regarding the economics of these inland water systems: "The lakes are a very great feature in the natural history of the country, and perform a most important function in its economy. They act as regulating reservoirs to the mountain-torrents emerging from them, for over their broad surface the floods find room to spread their volume until there be time given for the accumulation to pass away in the steady flow of one river. The value of the lakes as a means of restraining such rivers as the Clutha within safe limits will more readily appear when it is considered that the Wakatipu alone covers 114 square miles, the Wanaka 75 square miles, and the Hawea 48 square miles—altogether 237 square miles of lake to regulate its volume. These lakes have also a rise and fall of several feet. From the data thus given it will be evident that but for the tempering influences of the lakes, the Clutha, in place of flowing along a well-defined channel, a perennial stream, would devastate the whole country."

After nearly thirty years' European experience, the soundness of this theory, put forward at a time when the interior was terra incognita, can be fully attested. With the exception of a few miles of low-lying country at its mouth the Clutha has never been known to overflow its banks. With a body of water like this well confined, the bed in some instances has been scooped out to a great depth, the banks alone in these cases giving a drop of from 50ft. to 60ft. The country through which it flows is widely diversified in its aspects, varying from alluvial flats of great extent to abrupt mountain-gorges, in which barely sufficient room exists for road-making. Through some of its rocky defiles the river runs with great velocity. The average current, however, does not exceed four knots. In appearance these defiles are, as a rule, wildly grand. They form so many necks or funnels in the body of the river, at which the channel gets so contracted that the current receives all the greater impetus. The rush is for the most part that of a smooth volume, without any sign of submerged rocks or boulders. It does not demand great powers of imagination to invest these defiles with a handful of satanic lore and describe them as the devil's mill-streams, although it must be confessed the hydraulics are not generally recognised branches in demonology. The scene overhead is equally wild and suggestive. The precipices are high, the gorges in that way getting completely walled in. These precipices exhibit rocks and boulders striking all manner of threatening attitudes, from the slight list forward to the distinctly dangerous-looking, overhanging ledge. Some of these mighty excrescences look like turrets, embattlements, and hill-forts, but they are all too great, too magnificent, to be associated with the warlike operations of man. If we are to do them substantial justice we must bring the imaginative powers again into requisition and people them with a race of giants, armed to the teeth with the artilleries of heaven. That is the only way oat of the difficulty, and even then we may congratulate ourselves upon having escaped lightly.

Incidental allusion has been made to the alluvial flats. For the most part these have now attained a high state of cultivation. Although cereals are the staple crops, a higher class of husbandry has been introduced. The vine, and orchards of apples, peaches, apricots, plums, and the smaller fruits are cultivated with great success from the Lakes to the sea. The soil, composed of the detritus of mica schist, lime, and the silt of the river, is exceedingly fertile. In some of the drier and more gravelly soils fertility has been greatly stimulated by irrigation, as at Dunstan Flat, where a Frenchman for many years cultivated an extensive orchard, and from the produce thereof manufactured what was acknowledged to be an excellent light wine. At Roxburgh, lower down the valley of the Clutha, fruit-growing has long been successfully established, and is the principal source of supply of the Dunedin market. A line of railway to connect Lake Wanaka with the Otago through-line is in hand, and will tap the Dunstan en route. Meantime, it is a route largely patronised by the tourist traffic, the Dunstan being the alternative trip for visitors going to or returning from the Lakes.

For navigable purposes the river has been of small account. In olden times, prior to the period of European occupation, the North Island Natives made certain memorable warlike raids upon the southerners by this route. Fuller particulars of this primitive description of navigation will be found on reference to Note 17. Shipping, of the schooner class, did, and now and again still do, visit the low reaches; but it never was an extensive trade. In furtherance of the enterprise which has all along distinguished Otago, an effort was made in 1861 to establish a trade on the Clutha. On the 11th September of that year the Dunedin Harbourmaster reports that he had examined the river, and that it could be navigated a distance of forty miles from its entrance. Early next year a contract was entered into for the erection of a light-draught stern-wheel steamer to ply between Port Molyneux and the mouth of the Tuapeka. The craft was duly launched and put into commission, a subsidy of £150 per month being provided. It never was a successful venture, and has long since been abandoned. A subsequent attempt made to renew the enterprise likewise failed, and now that the railway system has been brought into operation the river traffic is confined to an occasional visit of a stern-wheel steamer calling at Tuapeka Mouth and other points to bring down wool, grain, and produce to the railway at Balclutha, or, in some cases, on by sea to Dunedin.

Note 16.—River (Gold) Dredging.

Mr. Henry A. Gordon, M. Inst. C.E., Inspecting Engineer for the colony, reports: A large number of dredges have been constructed to work the ocean beaches and river-beds, many of which have proved successful in their operations. Several descriptions of dredges have been so employed—namely, the centre-bucket, the Welman, Ball, and Von Schmidt dredges, as well as the Priestman grab; but the centre-bucket dredge is the favourite one for working gravel-flats and river-beds. All these dredges are, however, defective in washing-appliances. The hulls, or pontoons, on which the dredging machinery is placed, are too small to admit of good separating-appliances and gold-saving tables being constructed. Improvements are being however made in these, and before long we may reasonably hope that this system of gold-mining will be successfully carried on, and the ocean beaches and river-beds will be made to yield up their hidden treasures. There are now a large number of centre-buckets dredging on the Clutha, Kawarau, and Shotover Rivers, and most of these are seen to be profitable ventures. The latest constructed is worked by electro-motive force, generated about a mile and a half distant from the place where dredging operations are carried on, thus showing that our streams and rivers can be utilised as a power to generate this force, which can be transmitted long distances on a small copper-wire to the place where machinery requires to be erected. The subscribed capital of companies employed in this particular branch of mining represents £322,585, of which £72,879 has been paid up.

"Anno Domini 2000," written by Sir Julius Vogel, is a work dealing with a correlative to the pursuit. So difficult is it assumed to be that the writer has relegated it amongst the achievements of future generations. Although weak in detail, the plot has a certain boldness and vigour in its conception, which merits attention at the hands of enterprise and energy. Whether it be a secret of the movement or not we cannot pretend to tell, but it is true that enterprise on the lines laid down by the writer are already contemplated. In pursuance of solicitations made by the localities more particularly interested the Mines Department of the colonial service has authorised its inspecting engineer to examine into and report upon the feasibility of constructing a system of look-gates, so as to dam up the Clutha at its sources, and thereby enable the channel to be worked. The proposal is certainly plucky; but no one familiar with the progress of events in southern New Zealand can doubt but that it is an enterprise characteristic of the place. In the prosecution of inquiries made on the spot, Mr. Gordon gauged the three principal insets from the lakes: Wanaka, 10,000 sluice-heads per minute; Wakatipu, 14,000; and Hawea, 3,200. These measurements were taken in the month of January, when the water is considerably higher than during the winter months. The winter discharge, which, in these ice-bound regions is always the lowest may be put down at from one-half to one-third less than in summer. Lock-gates or barriers to dam the water back into its lake-reservoirs can, it is ascertained, be erected. Distributing these discharges over the areas of their respective lakes the outflow might, under the most disadvantageous conditions within the memory of man, be confined for a period of twelve days on a stretch without doing material damage to the neighbourhood. That simply means, with a proper system of lockage, the river-bed would be exposed for that length of time, or for longer periods, according to the season of the year and other concomitants. The richly auriferous portion of the river is 167 miles in extent—viz., Clutha branch, 37 miles; Kawarau, 40 miles; and from the junction of the united streams to the mouth of the Tuapeka, 90 miles. The possibilities arising out of the completion of this scheme are simply incalculable. As stated in the body of the narrative, the fame of the river arose out of a find of 87lb weight of the highest-priced gold, scraped from crevices of a rock in the channel; the water happening at the time to be at a low level, to which it has not since fallen. It has been urged the enormous discharge of tailings, consequent upon river-bank and tributary stream sluicing operations, must have filled-in the channel to a great depth. Observations made on that score have elicited the information that the bed of the river has been raised about 8ft. from its original level before gold was discovered. At no place does the débris lie to a greater depth than 3ft., and at places more exposed to the scour it does not rest at all. Even the débris, if it could be secured, would now prove valuable, immensely so; and that of itself would, so to speak, anticipate the process for getting down to the solid. Gabriel's Gully tailings, which have been washed and rewashed half a dozen times by both European and Chinese labour, are again being treated on payable terms; and sludge-channels all over the province have been instrumental in recovering a vast amount of treasure. If, then, these can be operated on successfully, how much more so must the river débris be payable. It is not only a tailing deposit at first hand, but it is constantly getting enriched by the river current. Kawarau branch, on the other hand, is a great mountain torrent, intercepted by huge boulders and jutting rooks, forming an endless succession of whirlpools and eddies. The story told in the narrative of a human being caught in one of these eddies and held in suspense for weeks is no mere fancy-sketch, but a ghastly reality. Bullocks and horses have been similarly caught and kept dangling in the stream for lengthened periods. It follows, then, if such bodies can be arrested, substances like gold could not possibly escape; so that the probabilities are these whirlpools and eddies are sinks in which the gold of ages has accumulated. The project is, to this extent, a feasible one, and, as we have already hinted, its eventualities are incalculable. The upper or top banks have paid well; the gold being all, without exception, water-worn. If, then, the top layers are rich it stands to reason the under-ground, on which the water is incessantly acting, must be enormously so. Of this we may be assured, with such vital interests at stake Otago will not rest satisfied until it has tested the question raised by "Anno Domini 2000," even although the time predicted by the author may not have arrived for its accomplishment.

Note 17.—West Coast Pass.

We learn from evidence taken in a Native-land claim decided a few years ago that this route was not unknown to the Maoris, and that in at least one of the war expeditions undertaken by northern tribes against their southern neighbours it was followed. The circumstances, as detailed, are these: During the early days of the third decade of this century a chief named Te Pueko, brother of Te Kaeaea, formerly well known in Port Nicholson by the name of Taringa-kuri (Dog-ear), with a party of about forty Natives, sailed through Cook Strait and down the West Coast. Leaving their canoes on the banks of the Awarua (Haast River), they followed a mountainous pass leading to Lake Oanaka (Wanaka), and, falling by surprise on a few families living there, killed them. Amongst the prisoners taken was a boy, son of the chief person of the place, named Te Raki. The latter, along with his two wives, was absent on the banks of the Hawea. To secure them, and at the same time prevent intelligence of their proceedings reaching the rest of the tribe, two of the war-party were sent in search of the chief, the boy being made to act as guide. The young mountaineer, being fleet of foot, and well acquainted with the passes and defiles of the mountains, succeeded in landing his escort in a ravine from which they had great difficulty in extricating themselves. Meantime the lad made good his escape, and, traversing the intervening mountains with the fleetness of a deer, reached his father in time to alarm him of the approaching danger. Te Raki, being a powerful as well as a resolute man, took his measures accordingly. He waylaid his would-be captors, and pouncing suddenly upon them from a neighbouring height, struck them dead on the spot. Having accomplished that feat he fled, with his wives and the boy, further in amongst the fastness of the mountains. The remainder of the war-party, assisted by the prisoners they had reserved as slaves, built for themselves a mokihi, by which they descended the river Matau (Clutha) till they reached the sea. At a point far below the lakes they met with falls or rapids, which could not be navigated with safety. Landing, they took their mokihi to pieces and carried it piecemeal down to the lower reach, where they again reconstructed it and proceeded on their journey to the sea. Arriving at Molyneux Bay they went inland to Mataura River, where they surprised another Native tribe. Some of the latter made their escape, and conveyed intelligence of the affair to Awarua (Bluff Harbour). From thence it was conveyed to Ruapuke, the stronghold of the southern tribes. A few days afterwards several boats set out, headed by Tuhawaki, the well-known Bloody Jack of South Island adventure, and he in his turn surprised and killed Te Pueko and many of his followers, making slaves of the remainder. Te Raki and his family are known to have lived at Hawea as late as the year 1840, and to have been in the habit of receiving friendly visits from the Waitaki tribes up to that date.

These details were related in evidence many years after their occurrence, and must have passed from hand to hand; and yet it is curious to note how authentic they are down to the minutest detail. Thirty years afterwards the Clutha River was surveyed, for the purpose of ascertaining how far it could be made navigable. From the report of that survey we gather that the only obstacle to the navigation is a shoot of rapids situated on a bar between the mouth of a tributary stream named Tuapeka and a puntage or crossing named the Beaumont. We have here evidence of the care with which the Maori was in the habit of promulgating information at all likely to be useful in the future, and the tenacity with which that information was preserved. Indeed, it has been asserted by some of the very best Maori minds in New Zealand that their traditions are just as reliable as many of our own historical records.

On this, as on many similar occasions, the Maori appears to have engineered his way with consummate skill. Since the event related, some of the best engineer-ingengineering ability has been engaged exploring the district in search of a through railway route to the West Coast. In 1881 the route followed by the Maoris was pronounced the only possible one, and in effect it remains so considered to the present day. A more recent survey suggested a route further south, its superior attractions being that it is seventeen miles shorter than the other. That, however, does not affect the question in its relation to the Maori. What is named in the Maori account Awarua River is now known as the Haast. The short route, as we may call it, starts from a point much further south than the Haast, and does not run within miles of the river, until it gets to the upper reaches in the immediate vicinity of Haast Pass. The difference, therefore, between the mouth of the Haast and the south-western terminus of this route, would certainly make up for the difference between it and the other route. Moreover, the Haast is a large river navigable for canoes, so that for Maori purposes this route, even although it was longer, must have been preferable. In whatever light we look at it, we are bound to admit that, as a fossicker and explorer, the Maori, long before he could possibly have profited by European intercourse, was a man not to be despised. Indeed, it is well known that we are indebted to his sagacity for some of the best traffic-routes, both here and in other parts of the colony.

It will not detract from the credit due to the Maori to add, his was the route followed by Lord Onslow, on the occasion of his recent tour from the west to the east coasts. His Excellency left Hokitika 5th January, 1892, and reached the mouth of the Haast by easy stages on the 13th. Striking inland he followed the north bank until reaching Big Bluff. From thence he journeyed along the south bank, following the Maori track, now known as Clark's route, until he reached the vicinity of Clark's Bluff at the junction of the Clark River. There he camped for the night. Pursuing the route which, beyond this trends in a southerly direction, a few miles brings the track to the vicinity of Burke River, which it crosses at a point named Pool Gorge. From thence it describes a horse-shoe bend, until it reaches the Pass, through the country between the head of the Haast and the Makarora Rivers. The course from thence to the Wanaka, which crosses the last-named river about halfway, follows a direction almost due south. A steamer being in readiness at the head of the lake conveyed His Excellency to Pembroke, where he arrived the evening of the second day from the West Coast.

The tourist-traveller, at all disposed to set at defiance the ordinary rules of the road and take his chance of a few days' experience of gipsy-life, could not find a better opportunity than this route. The Haast Pass cuts through the dividing range at a height of 1,847ft., and is surrounded by mountain peaks and ridges rising to the summit-level of 4,000ft. and 5,000ft. From thence, proceeding westward, the traveller follows the upper waters of the Haast until he reaches a tributary stream named Willis River, in the vicinity of which huts suitable for camping have been constructed. From thence he will follow the course of the Burke River to its crossing at Pool Gorge. This is described as a most remarkable stream. It passes through what is named the Grand Cañon, which we are informed rivals many of the famous cañons to be found in the Rocky Mountains of America. The river itself, in a distance of one-and-a-half miles, has a fall of 400ft., and throughout the whole length runs between walls of rock 200ft. to 300ft. high. These are not perpendicular, but absolutely undercut by the wear and tear of ages. The width of the river is nowhere at the bottom less than 50ft., whereas at the top there are several places where a 10ft. or 12ft. bridge would span the dreadful chasm. A look downwards makes one shudder, for the depth is so great that nothing but a glimmer of the tumbling and boiling waters below can be seen. It is described as one of Nature's grandest works, the like of which is not to be met with anywhere in New Zealand. By a mile or two's further divergence from the Haast track, and by keeping along the above-mentioned short track, the traveller reaches Mueller's Pass, which crosses the range at an elevation of 1,820ft. Here, to the west, and about half-a-mile from the top of Mount Victor, there is a most imposing mountain gateway. The range is cleft in two, down to a level of about 300ft. or 400ft. above the pass. The width at the bottom of the cleft is about two chains. The walls on both sides consist of solid rock rising to a height of 1,500ft., with an inclination very little removed from the perpendicular, for the distance of the rock-walls from each other at that height seems to be only five or six chains. From thence the Mount Victor face continues to be steep, to the very top of that mount (6,319ft. high), whereas on the other side of the gateway the slope towards the top of Mount Macedon is gentler. One traveller amidst these regions describes his experience: "At the junction of Strachan's Creek with the Burke, we found ourselves completely blocked. It is a large creek, tumbling down in a succession of cataracts and waterfalls between perpendicular rock-walls from 100ft. to 150ft. high. As the span from bank to bank was too great, and there was not the slightest chance of effecting a crossing by means of dropping a tree over the creek, we travelled up its southern side to an altitude of 1,830ft. before we were able to descend into the creek-bed; and then, with the help of a few saplings, which we managed to rest on big rocks lying in the centre of the streams, we effected a crossing. However, our troubles were not over, for another branch of the same creek, equally rock-bound, drove us up to the grass-line, where, at an altitude of 3,600ft., we camped for the night. But even in the open, we found next morning, we could not cross the creek, and we had to follow it up to the very top of the spur, 4,450ft. high." Returning to the main track, the traveller will meet with another cluster of huts a few miles from the Burke crossing, at which he can put up for the night, probably quite satisfied with his day's exertions. From thence he will make the mouth of the Haast, and journey over a well-frequented road to Hokitika and the West Coast districts, each of which has an interest and experience all its own.

These wild bewildering scenes recall to mind some of the more thrilling narratives in Old-World history. We hear in shrill cadence the pibroch sounding, sounding, and footsteps bounding, bounding, to the march of the Cameron men. Dry details in the pages of historical fact become enlivened with a romance in real life, and the Lays of the Last Minstrel are no longer a remnant of the past but an adjunct of the present.

The dark hours of night and of slumber are past, And morn on our mountains is beaming at last; Glenaladal's peaks are illumed with the rays, And the streams of Glenfinnan leap bright in the blaze. Ye sons of the strong, when that dawning shall break, Need the harp of the aged remind you to Wake? That dawn never beamed on your forefather's eye But it roused each high chieftain to vanquish or die. O, sprung from the kings who in Islay kept state, Proud chiefs of Clanranald, Glengarry, and Sleat! Combine with three streams from one mountain of snow, And, resistless in union, rush down on the foe. To the brand of each chieftain, like Fin's in his ire. May the blood through his veins flow like currents of fire. Burst the base foreign yoke as your sires did of yore, Or die like your sires, and endure it no more.

In the sequence of events the mind's eye beholds Glenfinnan on the memorable 19th of August, 1745, when the standard of the royal Stuart was unfurled amidst pomp and circumstances the most exciting and by far the most romantic in the history of the British Throne. The heir of that ill-fated dynasty landed in the kingdom of his fathers an exile and proscribed man, and yet for the nonce his fortunes seemed to rise superior to the evil genius of his unhappy lot, and which eventually ended in the total extinction of this long line of kings and princes. From thence we follow the current of events over the wild and dangerous traverses of the Corry Arrack until we find the young adventurer, to the consternation and dismay of the Hanoverian Scot, in undisputed possession of the ancient capital of the kingdom. Amidst the wild western mountains of New Zealand we have the sequestered Glenfinnan and the formidable Corry Arrack reproduced in all their native grandeur; and at a distance corresponding with that in the fatherland we have New Edinburgh represented in this Britain of the South. Here, however, the analogy ceases, the observation ends. There is nothing in colo-nialcolonial life at all conformable with the gathering of the clans or the sally of the Highland host, by whom these stirring events were so ably sustained. Adventurers we have—both young adventurers and old adventurers—but by no stretch of imagination can they be invested with the romance of Bonnie Prince Charlie. No doubt this, the nineteenth, century will be able to tell a tale in history, but it will be a tale of wonder rather than one of excitement—it will be the story of a subdued wilderness rather than the reminiscence of a conquered race; the triumphs of engineering skill and scientific research, but not the victory of arms and subjugation of nations. How under these unpromising auspices the romance of the next generation is to be provided for is difficult to imagine. With nothing more palatable than the snortings of the iron horse and the echoes of the fog-horn, poetry and romance will find but indigestible morsels to feed upon.

Note 18.—Dunedin.

In its incorporate capacity society in these colonies is much more comprehensive than contemporary society in older countries. The constitution of the latter is of more ancient growth, dates back to remote ages, and can only be traced through the side lights thrown upon it by contemporary history. It is the outcome of a state of things in which we had no part; and, even although it may have been recast to suit modern tastes, any attempt to study it as a whole is confronted with the foreign graft, puzzled with the unknown cause. The same obstacles do not present themselves in connection with our relations to the other. Settlements and cities in these parts are all of recent formation. They have grown up within our own ken, and even middle-aged men can recall a time when the large metropolitan centre was neither more nor less than a howling wilderness. Distance no doubt lends enchantment to the view, and what is remote and antique excites curiosity. That, however, is a transitory effect, or, at best, a speculative cause. What has taken root in our midst, grown up from infancy under our own eye, becomes an individual interest—an indisputable fact, the lessons taught by which cannot well be mistaken.

The new Edinburgh—or, as it is called, the City of Dunedin—is a marvellous case in point. The first official, or, rather, quasi-official, record we find of it reads as follows: "At the head of the Upper Harbour an exceptional site for a town presents itself to view. There the character of the country entirely changes. The land lies in long slopes or downs, upon which grows good grass mixed with shrubs, indicative of a strong soil. The aspect of the town will be nearly facing the meridian of the sun, and fronting the harbour. To the west of it some undulating slopes, covered to the water's-edge with beautiful timber and copsewood, offer space for several hundreds of ten-acre sections, semicircling a cove almost dry at low water. To the south, the uplands, which separate the large promontory in which the harbour is found from the level pastoral country of the main, rise gradually as a protection from the cold winds. In the westward is an opening in the chain of hills that belts the coast between the eastern head of Otago and Cape Saunders, across which extends a barrier of recent sandy formation, shutting out the sea, which in former times evidently flowed through what is now the Harbour of Otago. The site abounds in wood and fresh water; the harbour teems with fish of the best sort. The only objection I can name is its distance from the shipping port, but this is greatly palliated by the excellent water communication of the Upper Harbour."

These observations were made by Colonel Wakefield, and embodied in a report dated the 27th April, 1844. Fuller information relative to the settlement is furnished by one who visited the place six months prior. He writes: "On our arrival the only quarters we could procure were two rooms of a weatherboarded house, the other part of which was appropriated as a store for the sale of rum and whalers' slops. The architect had probably been a ship's carpenter, for he had fitted up one of the rooms with tiers of sleeping-places of the form called by sailors, bunks. We had no fireplace, and the daylight was visible through numerous chinks and cracks in our slight walls of boarding, through which the air was freely admitted; and whenever the wind blew it drifted with it a fine white sand from the neighbouring beach, which penetrated everywhere, and was a source of much annoyance. It was a matter of marvel to us that we did not suffer more from being so exposed to the weather, for, except when the wind was south-west, which is a cold quarter, and rushed down the harbour with great violence, we did not feel much inconvenience from the cold. Here we were obliged to remain a month with very little to do but to take our daily exercise, pacing up and down the ocean-beach, admiring the huge skeletons of whales which lay half covered by the tide, or moralising over several deserted and ruinous buildings, being the remains of the whaling-station (see Note 2), the only evidence of former life and activity. Such objects were well calculated to encourage gloomy thoughts and fancies, while the monotonous dreary roar of the breakers sounded in saddening unison."

Forty-five years later (1889) another traveller visited the infant settlement, and from his record we make the following extract:—

"To any one sailing up the bay on a fine day towards Dunedin the picture of the town is exceedingly charming. At only one point is it possible to see the whole city and its suburbs at a glance, but from the deck of a vessel in mid-channel may be had, perhaps, the most extensive view which it is possible to have. Sweeping the eye along the Northern Cemetery, one of the most beautifully-situated God's-acres in this hemisphere, you see curved round in a sort of amphitheatre the various quarters and suburbs of the city, till you reach the left arm of the crescent in the suburbs of St. Kilda, Kensington, and South Dunedin, with their background of sand-dunes and ocean. Of this amphitheatre the spectator occupies the middle point in the proscenium. The architecture of colonial dwelling-houses and ordinary places of business is not such as to produce a picturesque effect in the mass. But from this point the zinc roofs and wooden or brick walls are seen from below, and at such an angle as to conceal much of their ugliness. In front, occupying the orchestra and pit of the theatre, is the business part of the city, traversed along its whole width by Princes Street and its continuation George Street, these being again divided into blocks by streets intersecting them at right angles. The immediate foreground—the orchestra—consists chiefly of ground reclaimed from the bay in course of the Harbour Board's operations, or of ground which, at the foundation of the city, was an impassable bog. The ground reclaimed from the bay is, next to Princes Street, the most valuable ground in the city, and is occupied by railway and wharf buildings, and by imposing houses of business. Behind the city the ground rises with a steep ascent to a long ridge, which forms the background of the city, and which is crowned atop by the three hill-suburbs—Mornington, Roslyn, and Maori Hill. The side of this declivity is thickly covered with handsome residences, each snugly embedded in flowers and trees—for it must be remarked, in passing, that Dunedin abounds in flourishing flower-gardens and shrubberies. Between the city itself and the suburbs on the hill-top lies the Town Belt, a strip of ground some 400 acres in extent, reserved as a place of recreation for the citizens, and running the whole length of the city and suburbs. In some places it is densely wooded with native trees; in others it rises and falls in undulating downs, with occasional plateaux, which are utilised for football and cricket. The Queen's Drive, a metalled carriage-road, runs almost the whole length of the Belt, forming, in fine weather, such a drive or walk as few cities can boast of. The surroundings—the fresh green bush and ferns, and the exquisite views which present themselves at every bend of the road—are such as could hardly be improved upon. In spring, when festoons of white clematis float from the tree-tops, and when the birds are in full song, the Town Belt makes a delightful morning or evening walk. Besides the native song-birds, the tui and mold, English birds—blackbirds, thrushes, and chaffinches—flood the air with their music."

Against our Dunedin traveller's (him of the "forties") report of the whaler's slop and rum store, in which he was glad to find shelter without a fire, let as place the testimony of a traveller of recent date, as to the class of accommo-dationaccommodation to be found on what is understood to be the spot originally occupied by the store: "As to the hotel accommodation, we met with no hotel in the City of Melbourne that would bear comparison, as to its architecture, with the 'Grand.' It was built by an Italian architect, with an Italian richness of design not to be surpassed by any establishment of the kind in the Southern Hemisphere." Then, again, as if speaking in irony of the poor, fireless, shivering, shanty of 1843, the "Grand" tells us it is the only fireproof establishment of its kind in the colonies. Does it not strike one that we have here a sad significancy, and that at least some of the guests of the slightly-weatherboarded house for the sale of ram and slops would now be only too glad if they could get back again to their old quarters under its fireless auspices. The subject, however, is too sad to be pursued, so we will pass on to a further exposition of Dunedin as it is. The Colonial Bank, we are told, is a fine, somewhat florid limestone building, with a lofty clock-tower; the Bank of New Zealand, also of Oamaru stone with Aberdeen granite pillars, would not shame Lombard Street. On reaching the Octagon, one comes in front of an Oamaru limestone building with a disproportionately high tower, to which attention is called every quarter of an hour by a clang of bells, whose effect varies with the state of the nerves. This is the Town Hall. On the opposite side is the Mechanics' Institute and Athenæum. Dunedin, of course, participates in the general scheme of education in operation throughout the colony. The town is provided with sis State schools, having an average daily attendance of something over four thousand pupils. In addition to these there are the educational institutions possible only in towns of some size—a Normal School, Boys' High School, Girls' High School, and University. In connection with each high school there is a boarding-house, under control of the Board of Governors. The University was founded in 1869 by ordinance of the Provincial Council, and in 1874 became affiliated to the University of New Zealand. It contains a Faculty of Arts, with seven professors and two lecturers; a Faculty of Medicine, with two professors and five lecturers; a School of Law, with one professor and one lecturer; and a School of Mines, with four professors. There is a library, containing five thousand volumes, selected chiefly as works of reference for the use of students. Altogether, Dunedin must be looked upon as a young city of great promise, whose future will always measure the future of the colony. If there is a prosperous future in store for the colony, Dunedin, owing to its position and climate, must continue to be one of its representative cities. The large tracts of fertile land in the interior of the province offer infinite possibilities of settlement; and, so long as such settlement goes on steadily, so long will Dunedin go on steadily increasing in size and prosperity.

The city is now subdivided into eight muncipalities, whose united values are given as—Improved, £3,426,393; unimproved, £2,953,670. They are as follows: Dunedin, £4,438,695; Caversham, £443,575; Roslyn, £381,949; Mornington, £321,624; North-east Valley, £298,951; South Dunedin, 211,309; Maori Hill, £157,327; St. Kilda, £126,633: total value of city, £6,380,063.

The Meteorological Observatory of Dunedin was situated until lately on the Town Belt, near Roslyn, at an altitude of 550ft. above sea-level, and at that elevation the following is the result of seventeen years' climatic observations: Mean temperature, 50·72°, the difference between the coldest and the warmest months being 15·30°. The registered rainfall was 32·019in.

Note 19.—Sabbath Observance.

In a petition to the Provincial Legislature, presented in the year 1864, the Otago Presbytery complains of the public desecration of the Sabbath in various forms and in different parts of this (Otago) province, more especially in connection with the loading and unloading of vessels, and also the delivery of letters at the post-office. The Presbytery therefore prays the Council to obtain the sanction of the Governor to provide regulations so as to effectually protect a strict observance of the Lord's-day within the boundaries of the province.

Note 20.—First Church, Dunedin.

Conspicuous to any one entering Dunedin by steamer or rail is the First Church, on its plateau of carefully-kept turf. As the name indicates, this is the church of earliest establishment in the city. Its first pastor was the Rev. Dr. Burns, who came out with the Presbyterian immigrants in 1848. Though the establishment of the church dates back to the foundation of the colony, the present building is of comparatively modern date. It was built by an architect who has left his mark on the public buildings of Otago, more particularly on its church architecture. It is built of Oamaru stone, and is very ornate in style.

Another of these ecclesiastical structures is named Knox, or the second Dunedin, church. It has a style of architecture which is the natural outcome of the resources of the province. The chief building-stone available in Dunedin is a bluish or grey breccia, a volcanic rock of great durability, but of too sombre a colour to be used without relief. An effective contrast is obtained by introducing a facing of Oamaru stone; and, as long as the limestone retains its creamy whiteness, nothing cleaner or more cheerful than this combination could be desired. The blue volcanic stone, though it may be dressed into magnificent blocks, does not lend itself to ornamental work of any kind, hence the necessity for a soft stone like the Oamaru limestone, which is not only light in colour, but may be worked with much ease into decorative works of all kinds. Of this style, which seems likely to become distinctive of Dunedin architecture, is Knox Church, built some ten. or twelve years ago to meet the wants of a congregation which had outgrown the space of its own wooden building; and, outside and in, this church is an admirable example of beauty and fitness.—"Our Sister Cities," in Melbourne Review.

Note 21.—Rev. Dr. Burns.

The names of two men notable for their primogeniture were present, and took part, in the foundation of the Otago settlement. The one was William Cargill, to whose ancestral virtues allusion is made in Note 27 of this series. The story of the other is briefly as follows: One cold, boisterous, Old-World winter's day in the month of January, 1759, a peasant lad was ushered into existence, with no shelter overhead but that afforded by a rude clay cabin. Poor and inadequate as the provision was, it did not serve the purpose long. One blast more treacherous than the others carried away the roof, leaving the unfortunate child and its parent exposed to the ruthless storm. Life in the peasant Scot and their offspring—for such their nationality was—does not readily succumb to the inclemency of the weather, and accordingly the little stranger and his mother survived the mishap. In his progress towards man's estate the lad evinced aptitudes, but these afforded no clue to his after-achievements. Socially speaking he was a perfect admixture. One moment he was sad and pensive, the next gay, giddy, and boisterous. In this the child was father to the man, a prefiguration of that versatile talent which breathed forth the plaintive melody, "Man was made to mourn," and anon piped the bacchanalian chant, "Robin was a roving boy; ranting roving Robin." Morally, too, he was a natural phenomenon—a perfect puzzle. We instinctively recoil from the man who vauntingly subscribes himself "The ranting dog, the daddy o't;" and then, again, our just resentments are softened and sanctified in the music of that heavenly charm,—

…. Mary, dear departed shade, Where is thy place of blissful rest? See'st thou thy lover lowly laid? Hearest thou the groans that rend his breast?

Robert Burns, the immortal bard, is the man referred to, and it maybe added, no destiny so amplified could be made to apply to one less gifted. Thomas Burns, mentioned in the body of the narrative as the Rev. Dr. Burns, was nephew to the poet, and he, together with William Cargill, represented the two names referred to—the one was the Moses, the other the Aaron, of Otago.

Captain Cargill reached New Zealand in the ship "John Wickliffe." He was appointed Otago agent for the New Zealand Company, and a Magistrate of the colony. He was elected first Superintendent of the province, and was otherwise intimately associated with the affairs of the infant settlement. His coadjutor—Dr. Burns—reached Otago in the ship "Philip Laing," both vessels arriving within a few days of each other. The "Philip Laing" sailed out of the Clyde, and I quote from the Greenock Advertiser of the day, which, after mentioning the relationship to the poet, goes on to say, "This connection can scarcely fail to form a constant and a pleasant tie between the new settlement and the land to which one section of its population cannot fail to look back with feelings of affectionate interest. We have no doubt the Rev. Mr. Burns will be found not only an able and wise instructor, but a judicious adviser, and a friend, the energy of whose character and example will render his counsels doubly welcome." Dr. Burns fully justified the forecast. He was a most sagacious, far-seeing man, a real statesman, and one whose influence in giving form and stability to the institutions of Otago was paramount in the earlier years of the settlement. A monument is now being erected in the Octagon, Dunedin, in honour of his memory.

Note 22.—A Character Not Always Deserved.

Lord Mahon, in his history of England, Vol. iii., p. 314, writes: "The Scots have often been reproached with a spirit of sordid gain. The truth is—and should it not be a matter of praise?—that by their intelligence, their industry, their superior education, they will always, in whatever country, be singled out for employment, and rise high in the social scale; but when a contest lies between selfish security or advancement on one side and generous impulse or deep-rooted conviction on the other—when danger and conscience beckon onward and prudence alone calls back—let all history declare whether, in any age or in any cause, as followers of Knox or of Montrose, as Cameronians or Jacobites, the men—aye, and the women—of Scotland have quailed from any degree of sacrifice and suffering."

Note 23.—"The Bloody Clavers."

John Grahame, of Claverhouse, Viscount Dundee, is a man long-lived in the execrations of his countrymen. Strenuous efforts have been made to purify his memory from what there can be little doubt is well-merited odium, but these have signally failed, and Claverhouse remains as much a byword and reproach to our common humanity as he was two hundred years ago, when employed harrying the lairds of Clydesdale, and ruthlessly shooting down the peasants of Ayrshire. Sir Walter Scott, a man brimful of sympathy for the individual, but a thorough despot in his political sentiments towards the masses, has painted him the hero of renown, gifted with a chivalry and devotion worthy of the highest order in patriotism. In these endeavours, if Sir Walter has succeeded at all, it is only to the extent of shifting the odium from his hero on to himself. Could anything be more disingenuous and less worthy of the great mind than the plea he puts into the mouth of Claverhouse in extenuation of his cold-blooded atrocities?—"There is a difference in my spilling the blood Of muddy peasants and cracked-brained weavers, and Burley [leader of the Presbyterian army] killing prelates, lords, and commanders." Even the able George Gilfillan, the learned divine of Dundee, with all his tenderness and regard to the memory of the Baronet of Abbotsford, is forced to admit that "Claverhouse in 'Old Mortality' is a pure fiction, a failure as well as a falsehood, and the contrarieties drawn in his character are monstrous and thoroughly irreconcilable." Kind, considerate, and in many respects irreproachable as the author of 'Waverley' undoubtedly was, he conceived a bitter animus against the Covenanters, and did not hesitate to misrepresent them in both their character and doctrine. For instance, his Gilbert Kettledrummle is the caricature of a name readily recognised in the events of the period. At the memorable battle of Drumclog he is pictured, in an attitude of perturbation, addressing his companions in misfortune as follows: "Peradventure some pellet may attain unto us even here. Lo, I will ensconce me behind the cairn as behind a strong wall of defence." If there he one distinguishing feature in the character of these noble people more prominently pourtrayed than another, it is the devotion they showed in defending themselves against the wanton, attacks on their civil and religious liberties—a devotion the immediate prospect of death could not shake, far less destroy. They may have been, and, no doubt, many of them were, men extreme in their views and headstrong in their prejudices, but it is a foul libel to brand them as cowards, or even imply that they valued their lives in preference to what they esteemed the glory of God and the good of their country.

Then we find another great intellect embarked in a similar project—viz., William Edmonstoune Aytoun, D.C.L., Professor of Rhetoric and English Literature in the University of our Modern Athens. He sets out with that admirable lay in his Cavaliers, "The Burial March of Dundee,"—

Sound the fife and cry the slogan; Let the pibroch shake the air With its wild triumphal music, Worthy of the freight we bear. Lo! we bring with us the hero— Lo! we bring the conquering Græme— Crowned as best beseems a victor From the altar of his fame.

In the pages of authentic history no such halo encircles the name of Dundee. Macaulay, in his popular History of England, tells us that the shires in which the Covenanters were most numerous were given up to the license of the army. With the army was mingled a militia composed of the most violent and profligate of those who called themselves Episcopalians. Pre-eminent among the bands which oppressed and wasted these unhappy districts were the dragoons commanded by Claverhouse. The story ran that these wicked men used in their revels to play at the torments of Hell, and call each other by the names of devils and damned souls. The chief of this Tophet on earth, a soldier of distinguished courage and professional skill, but rapacious and profane, of violent temper and of obdurate heart, has left a name which, wherever the Scottish race is settled on the face of the globe, is mentioned with a peculiar energy and hatred.

Note 24.—Gabriel's Gully.

Gabriel's Gully, named after Gabriel Read, its prospector, was the big event in the history of New Zealand. The influences it exercised directly, but far more so indirectly, upon the fortunes and destiny of the colony cannot be stated, even approximately. To the early settlers it proved, together with the developments it promoted in other directions, a perfect windfall. It provided them with a needful supply of ready cash, and created markets never dreamt of in the philosophy of their early colonising schemes. From being a hazy, indistinct idea in the minds of the outside world, New Zealand became an established fact, capable of asserting for itself a position in the social and domestic economics of the day. To its pastoral interest belongs the honour, but to its goldfields interest belongs the glory, of making New Zealand what we now find it—a premier Australasian colony.

In the year 1861 the place first emerged from utter obscurity. In a communication addressed to Major, afterwards Sir John C. Richardson, Superintendent of Otago, Gabriel Read states, inter alia, that he had penetrated inland as far as the gully, and, with no other appliance than that of a butcher's knife and a tin dish', he had for ten hours' work netted 7oz. of gold. The good news was confirmed by the late Mr. Justice Gillies, then a resident of Otago, in a further communication, dated the 28th June, and from that day to this the gully has gone on with various degrees of success, asserting for itself the position of a large gold-bearing centre.

By far the most distinctive feature of its workings is the Blue Spur. It is, or, at all events, was, an extraordinary mound or saddle, separating Gabriel's from the adjoining operations in Munroe's. It is a blue conglomerate, hard, but not flinty. Hill-sluicing at this period was quite a novelty, and when the first claim was taken up on the side of the spur the owners were considered little better than fanatics. With a few sluice-heads of water hastily brought on to the ground, they were enabled to establish the soundness of their enterprise, and forthwith every spare inch of the spur was occupied. Races, twenty and thirty miles in length, carrying enormous quantities of water, were brought in. The hydraulic force was kept in operation night and day, so that, when fully manned, the spur, from top to bottom, became a perfect bee-hive for industry.

The stuff, in the first instance, was broken down by hand. Now and again an odd shot was put in to slacken the more obdurate strata. That suggested the idea of a big shot, and after the question in its pros and cons had been discussed, what was then known as Morrison and Clayton's party, the first claimholders on the spur, determined upon making the plucky experiment of firing three tons of powder. In anticipation of the event great preparations were made. A tee drive, with a side chamber, was put in, each chamber being charged with a ton weight of powder. To minimise the chance of accident, the shot was fired at night. It was a night of intense excitement all round the gully. People came from for and near to witness the upshot. It was fired by a galvanic battery, and, without doing the slightest unnecessary damage, a wing of the hill was blown down bodily. The whole thing was pronounced an unqualified success, and in celebration thereof a supper and ball ensued, which lasted without intermission for about a week. It was afterwards ascertained that only one of the three chambers had exploded, and with some little trouble the remaining two tons of powder were recovered without sustaining material damage.

This was the inauguration of heavy blasting operations, afterwards so popular in hill workings in Otago. Its results on the Blue Spur were that the mound eventually disappeared altogether, and the through passage from thence to Munroes was levelled to the ground. The claims were then opened out, and the lower strata brought out on an incline in trucks, and passed through a head of stamps. This was the condition of things when the Spur, or, rather, what remained of it, got into the hands of an amalgamated company, worked with English capital.

To rework the Blue Spur tailings, now accumulated over a vast area 30ft. to 50ft. deep, has long been considered in the light of a payable project; and no one acquainted with the early workings can doubt but that the opinion is well founded. The wont of fall, however, was a great drawback to their treatment. Latterly, a system of hydraulics has been employed, by which the stuff is raised by water power to a sufficient height for enabling the dirt to be washed, and the débris shot off clear of all interruption to the workings. The enterprise is carried out on a systematic principle, and in pursuance thereof operations were began at the mouth of the gully, a distance of two or three miles from the spur. The ground there is poor, having been operated upon at least half-a-dozen times—both by European and Chinese labour. Despite that fact, the latest reports show the project is paying, and, as might be expected, the further they get up the gully the stuff becomes the richer. When they reach the real body of the spur tailings, very rich ground may be looked for. With only the pick and the shovel at work, and some hundreds of sluice-heads of water pouring down the hill, it is easy to understand a large quantity of gold must have been carried off in the débris. The tailings were washed down ground-sluices in lumps averaging from the size of a duck's egg to that of a cannon-ball; and conglomerate that size must of necessity have been impregnated with good gold. We can speak positively when we say the general impression at the time was that from 25 to 50 per cent. of the gold escaped. Be that as it may, these tailings are good dirt, and between Gabriel's and Munroe's deposits alone will provide work for many years to come.

Note 25.—Molyneux Bay.

It would appear as if nature originally designed this locality as the metropolitan centre, but, having stopped short in its plans, the work, on the eve of execution, was left incomplete. The bay is most capacious, but it has no shelter. It is the outlet of a river discharging more water than the Thames, or, indeed, many of the largest rivers in the world (see Note 15), and yet for navigable purposes it is no good. Had it been navigable to its extremities no distributing system could have been more complete. Ocean-going vessels would have discharged their cargoes at the head of Lake Hawea, within a few miles of the coast on the north-west side, while, by taking advantage of the Kawarau, they would have reached Lake Wakatipu and performed similar service in that direction. In addition, the branch leading into Lake Wanaka would have enabled the deep-sea service to supply the requirements of the intervening country. It would have been as effective a system of navigable rivers opening into navigable lakes as could well be imagined. Then, again, as if to show how perfect the original design was, mountains of coal have been developed on the banks of the river, near the mouth. This coal-seam has since become one of the great features of the place. The first heard of it is in a report furnished by the exploring party despatched in 1843 to survey the Otago Settlement. It reads: "In the mineral kingdom the existence of coal in great profusion is most remarkable. Its appearance on the coast at Coal Point is most conspicuous." The produce of this field at the end of 1886 represented 300,000 tons, which, together with small coal and dross, is valued at £125,000. The first attempt made to work the field for market purposes was in 1858. A lease was granted to one Lewis, but very little work was done. One schooner, the "Pioneer," long remembered as being the first regular trader to Port Molyneux, made periodical trips to and from Dunedin. For years that craft did the entire business of the district, taking down stores, &c., for the settlers, and carrying away coal in return. In 1864 the seam was traced to the neighbouring range, and a mine opened in the vicinity of the present workings. It was not, however, until the establishment of the Main Trunk Southern Railway as far as Balclutha that the field was opened out on an extensive scale. About that period—1875—a company was formed, with a capital of £25,000, in £10 shares. At an outlay of £26,000 a branch railway was built, connecting the mine. In that way direct through-communication was established with these two populous centres—Dunedin and Invercargill. The mine itself was originally worked by a level drive cut through the conglomerate roof. An outlet was thus provided for the coal, as also for drainage. In 1880 an adjoining property of 69 acres, situated to the dip, and tapped by a shaft 380ft. deep, was added to the concern, and the whole, comprising an area of 1,100 acres, worked under the one auspices. Besides this shaft, at which there is a pair of 10-horse-power cylinders, an engine plane has been driven 1,076ft., at an angle of 1 in 5, making a distinct mine, entirely independent of the others. Electric signals are used in the engine plane, which is laid with 28lb. steel rails through its entire length. The cost of the plant, exclusive of shafts and drives, is set down at £15,000. The average price of coal at the pit-head is 11s., a further sum of 5s. 6d. and 7s. 6d. being charged as railway carriage to Dunedin and Invercargill respectively. Since the company began operations a dividend of 7½ per cent. has been paid annually. The seam is 30ft. thick. Out of upwards of sixty mines opened in Otago, Kaitangata shows by far the best results, the figures in 1886 being 32,000 tons. The next in productiveness is Green Island, within a few miles of Dunedin. Its output amounted to 18,000 tons. The others, some of which are no better than mere lignite-pits, vary from a few hundred up to 10,000 tons. The area of the Kaitangata Coalfield is estimated at 6,000 acres, and the probable quantity of coal at 140,000,000 tons.

The borough town of Kaitangata was, within the last few years, a one-horse affair. It figured out on the principle of the unit "one." It consisted of one house of one apartment, its resident population being one man, and, according to the traditions of the district, this one-sided gentleman completed the insulation by losing the run of one of his legs. The only plurality in numbers was that ascribed to the "building material" of which the establishment was compounded. That consisted of a nice adjustment in packing-cases, inlaid with calico, and, where the winds were less likely to prevail, paper packing completed the triple alliance. In virtue of its light, airy aspect it was named the Balloon. It was the stock exchange, the commercial emporium of the district, and, in common with his other accomplishments, its lord and master kept a good eye on number one. Such was Kaitangata in its first blush. It was an urban centre in humble circumstances, but, still, it has outlived some of its mere pretentious neighbours, and is now in a fair way of rising into opulence. According to latest accounts, it has a resident population of 1,250 souls, housed under 189 tenements, with a rateable value in property of £4,896 sterling. Its receipts for last year amounted to £846, with an expenditure of £716, so that this young civic bantling is acting a prudent part in its domestic economies, and living within its income. Somehow, it managed to contract a floating debt to the tune of £539; but, after all, that is but a small sin, seeing it can lay past £130 per annum; and, besides, it has an asset valued at £42.

Looked down at from the neighbouring heights, the valley displays scenography in pastoral beauty and commercial enterprise, amidst which the speculator as well as the scenic artist cannot fail in observing much that is interesting. These heights are all of moderate size, just sufficient for protecting the valleys from boisterous winds and weather. Seaward the observer gets a view of the "Noggets," as Colonel Wakefield's exploring party called them, but which is more appropriately pronounced, in the nomenclature of the day, Nugget Point. It is the continuation of a well-wooded ridge which inland loses itself amidst swelling downs, extending far away into the intricacies of the Blue Mountain regions. At the extreme point of the headland or promontory is Nugget Lighthouse. It was amongst the first erections of the kind on the south-eastern coast, and for years it kept solitary watch over the treacherous shores of eastern Otago. Now, however, it is only one of a succession of lights which all but penetrate into the radius of each other, until the entire coast-line from the outer entrance of Foveaux Strait to Otago Heads is lit up by a continuous gleam. Landward, we have Clutha River, with its numberless tributary streams like silver threads amongst the gold in the golden harvests of a well-cultivated land. At one noticeable point the river stretches out in arms, and, after hugging a piece of island-land for some miles, these again combine into one channel, maintaining that order until they mingle with the waters of the bay. What we have termed a piece of island-land is the renowned Inch-Clutha. It is a choice spot. It was taken possession of by the early settlers, and then, as now, sustained the reputation of being the garden of Otago. At no great distance from the river's edge there is a chain of goodly-sized lakes extending well into the Tokomairiro country. Throughout these plains, paddocks, fields, and enclosures are mapped out in every direction, all being in a well advanced stage of cultivation and improvement. In the background the land rises into an amphitheatre of hills, backed by a bewilderment in mountains, with peaks tapering off into the rugged edges of cloudland, amidst which they seem only too anxious to hide away from the sight of their own naked deformities.

In early days, which in a young community like this dates a long way back when it reaches a quarter of a century, Clutha Valley was remotely situated from the metropolitan centre. Now, however, the southern railway brings it within easy distance—a one day's trip from and to Dunedin, with ample time to spare for inspection purposes.

Note 26.—Waipori Flats.

Gold was discovered in the Waipori River and on the adjoining flats in the early part of the year 1862, but the ground was not opened up until the following summer. Quartz-reefs were discovered as early as 1864; but alluvial mining has been the principal means of support for the population. Parties in possession of water-rights are able to make fair wages sluicing. There are strong indications of deep leads existing on Waipori Plats. As the lead is supposed to extend from five to six miles down the flat, the discovery of payable gold would be a means of affording employment to a large number of miners. For sluicing purposes a volume of water equal to sixty-one sluice-heads has been brought on to these fiats by seven races, representing a total of seventy-one miles in length.

Note 27.—Invercargill.

Had Invercargill represented the family circle, instead of representing the body politic, we should have been justified in ascribing to it ancient and honourable traditions. These would have dated back to the middle of the seventeenth century, and even then there is reason to assume we would not have reached the root of the genealogical tree. In support thereof it is necessary to mention the illustrious Charles Stuart, grandsire of that Stuart afterwards named, or, rather, misnamed, the Pretender. Like unto his race, more especially that section by which the Royal family account was closed, he ruled neither wisely nor well. He was a pig-headed monarch, who fancied he reigned over his fellow-men by virtue of a Divine right in kings, and that, as king, he could do no wrong. Amongst other fads, he got the idea into his head that his Scottish subjects were going to Heaven the wrong road. He thereupon prescribed that, for the future, they should make their calling and election sure by virtue of the Church of England service-book. To such proposal, however, the Scottish mind was bitterly repugnant. The Sunday the innovation was introduced into the parish church of St. Giles, Edinburgh, an old woman named Jenny Geddes, lifting up her testimony together with her three-legged stool, called out at the top of her voice, "If ye wid blaw ye'r papish mass-book into mi lug, tak' that." So saying she sent the stool flying at the head of the offending parson. The latter was a prudent man, and accordingly forbore intruding the service-book further on his unwilling hearers. Had the Royal Charles followed the same example it would have been well for him, and far better for his successor. Instead of that, however, the liturgical crusade was followed up with renewed vigour, and, in order to make it more effective, a commission of fire and sword was granted to one John Grahame, of Claverhouse, a renegade Scot (see Note 24), who had studied cruelty as a fine art in the wars of continental Europe. Exasperated and oppressed beyond endurance, the Nonconformists, as they were named, did a very unwise thing. They killed an apostate from their ranks, whom, rightly or wrongly, they suspected of having betrayed their trust. This reprehensible act was made a plea for further severities, and everything savouring of Nonconformity was assailed with merciless fury. The consequence was that the Presbyterian Scot who desired to remain true to the faith of his fathers was driven from his home, and made to wander amongst the beasts of the field. When taken he was either shot on the spot or handed over to the doomster to be tortured to death. Amongst others of this sect, or, as they were named, the "persecuted remnant," was one Donald Cargill. After enduring much suffering and cruel persecution he fell into the hands of his enemies. At his trial before the Privy Council he could be got to recant nothing, and on the scaffold at his execution he appeared equally dauntless. Beyond the fact that he had the courage of his opinions, a courage death itself could not destroy, there seems to have been nothing formidable about the man. However, the circumstances of his death, and its surroundings, were enough to canonize him, and, if the faith to which he belonged had admitted of a saint's calendar, most assuredly Donald Cargill's name would have appeared therein. A descendant in the direct line of this courageous old Presbyterian was leader of the Free Church movement in the Otago settlement. His name was William Cargill, and, in token of the respect and veneration in which he was held, Invercargill was named after him.

This young Cargill, or Invercargill, did not contribute largely to the credit of the parentage from which it derived its name. It started life, as the capital of the Southland Province, in a kind of prodigal campaign, raising the wind on every side, until things got so breezy that nothing remained but to reap the whirlwind. It was a case of—

——mirth and laughter;

Sermons and soda-water the day after.

In itself it was not what would be called desperately wicked, but, somehow no sooner did it become known that it had entered into doubtful dealings than there congregated within its borders iniquity enough to have sent even a cathedral city headlong to destruction. One man brought with him the wooden-railway system mentioned in the narrative. "My railway," said he, "is the triumph of science, the perfection of art. Just give me a man, with a crutch in the one hand and a wooden leg in the other, and I'll back him to make better time on my rails than the best Fairlie engine you can put upon your metals." Advantages like these were not to be despised, and accordingly the wooden-railway scheme was bought, and the youthful province sold. Another gentleman came armed with a method for making macadamised roads out of flax and fascines. This was the pink of perfection in domestic economy—a good passable road, with flax and fern ad libitum all along the line. The flax enterprise proved less innocent as a joke than the wooden railway. The latter could be lifted up and thrust out of the way; the flax got imbedded in the slush and mud, and remained a danger to life and limb for years afterwards. Getting very poor, the district became very penitent, and, like the prodigal child it had been, after ten years' sin and misery, it took heart of grace and returned to the provincial parent. Since then Invercargill has enjoyed domestic peace and commercial prosperity, and, having sown its wild oats, has settled down and become a reputable member of colonial society. Even its saintly primogenitor, Donald Cargill, had he been in the flesh, would not be ashamed of it.

No record has been kept of the date when Invercargill made its first start. There is a tradition it was founded by a refugee from Van Diemen's Land; and it is a fact that such a personage did occupy a picturesque situation in what is now Dee Street, Invercargill, for a considerable period after the settlement fairly got into existence. He was popularly known as the "black doctor," and a striking character in real life he most undoubtedly was. He was a tall, gaunt, black-grained figure, standing six feet some inches high. He went about armed with an axe, carrying himself, as well as the axe, with the martial dignity of a hero in romance. The reason why he got to Van Diemen's Land in the first instance is not known. He was one of the notorious Macquarie Harbour squad, Macquarie Harbour being then one of the most rigorous of the South Sea penal settlements. He was drafted into what was known as the "look-out gang." They were a party of prisoners camped on an island at the mouth of the harbour, and, amongst other duties, they were employed looking out for vessels, and to assist in working them over the bar. A sealer craft en route to New Zealand put in, and, after discharging stores from Sydney Cove settlement, set out in prosecution of her voyage. He was one of the boat's crew who took the sealer over the bar, and on leaving, instead of getting into the boat, managed to secret himself in the chains. The night being dark and boisterous, his absence was not noticed until the sealer got well away and pursuit became useless. Arriving at Awarua (Bluff), the black doctor joined the shore whaling-party. Having reason to suspect a purpose was afoot to seize him and send him back to the penal settlement, the doctor took to the bush, and when the early settlers invaded the place they found him in the full enjoyment of a Robinson Crusoe life on the banks of the Waihopai. Compared with the ordinary bush habitation, the doctor had erected for himself a palatial residence. It was an enterprise fearfully and wonderfully made, contrived in accordance with the interstices of the honeycomb. Indeed, no one that saw it could have doubted it was the handicraft of a man with a bee in his bonnet, and so the honeycomb construction became all the more obvious in respect of the eternal fitness in things. The doctor kept undisputed possession of his holding, and continued to strut about as proud as a peacock, until Crown grants and parchment rights came into operation. It seemed a heartless thing to oust the creature, but that was not the worst feature in the proceeding. The prosecuting attorney in the ejectment process got it into his head that the doctor meant him grievous bodily harm, and had him indicted as a dangerous lunatic. A scrap of paper was produced on which some wretched scrawls had been traced. This the alarmed lawyer construed into a skull and cross-bones, meaning thereby that the legal cranium was in danger of being dissected, and other of his bodily members disarranged. The whole thing was too flimsy, and justice satisfied itself by simply ordering the doctor off the land. It was after all a hard case, but, as it happened, when the rights of landlordism were never called in question, little notice was taken of it. Driven from his home, the poor fellow became a wanderer, and shortly afterwards wandered forth to be no more. Whatever his early transgressions amounted to is not known. His life latterly was perfectly harmless. If he was proud, and perhaps demonstrative, he had about him a good deal of the pride of independence, and a certain rectitude of conduct according to his own interpretations thereof.

The first official record we have of Invercargill is a Town Board ordinance passed in 1859. Its population at that date numbered 445, over two-thirds of whom were females. Now the town is subdivided into five municipalities, the affairs of each being administered by separate Councils. Its values are set down at £934,838, of which £408,174 represents the value of buildings and improvements. That is a remarkably good record for thirty years, springing up, as it does, from the inappreciable value of a bush shanty to the rateable value of a trifle under one million sterling. Then, again, if we take the county we find another million, represented by agriculture and pastoral improvements; and, by adding the unimproved value thereto, we get the grand total of three and a quarter millions of money. The area of Southland County is set down at 6,966,592 acres, of which 1,893,568 acres have been disposed of, so that a good extent of landed estate still remains for setttlement. Its population is estimated at 18,412. In cattle it numbers 61,815; sheep, 776,364; and horses, 12,829. Its area and produce in staple crops is estimated as follows: Wheat, 5,811 acres, producing 149,910 bushels; oats, 80,583 acres, producing 2,753,072 bushels; barley, 1,213 acres, producing 35,197 bushels; hay, 746 acres, producing 1,067 tons; potatoes, 1,177 acres, producing 5,965 tons.

Situated as Invercargill is near the extreme south of the colony, the following climatic observations, extending over a period of fourteen years, will be read with interest: Mean temperature, 50·36°; difference, 16·92°; rainfall, 43·674in.

I am indebted to one of the early settlers, Mr. James Walker Bain, formerly M.H.R., now Mayor of Invercargill, for the following information: This, the original capital of Southland as a province, is now chief town of the county of that name. It is situated on the eastern shore of the New River estuary, nine miles from Foveaux Strait. It is connected by railway with Bluff Harbour, the distance from town to port being seventeen miles. The site of Invercargill was fixed in 1857 by the late Mr. John Turnbull Thomson, F.R.G.S., afterwards Surveyor-General of the colony.

Invercargill is immediately surrounded by five smaller municipalities, the total population of the town and adjacent boroughs being 8,551; and it is also the administrative centre of a district containing a population of upwards of fifty thousand souls. As a centre of railway traffic it has a train-service of upwards of three hundred miles.

In street architecture visitors from other colonies express admiration and surprise at the class and style of its buildings. The Crescent Block, leading from the railway-station towards Tay Street, contains the handsome buildings used by the Union Steamship Company; Mr. J. G. Ward, grain merchant; the New Zealand Loan and Mercantile Agency Company; the National Mortgage and Agency Company; the Crescent Hotel; and the National Bank of New Zealand. Langland's Block, in Dee Street, the design of Mr. F. W. Burwell; the Bank of New Zealand, the Bank of Australasia, the Colonial Bank of New Zealand, the Union Bank of Australasia, the Bank of New South Wales, the Supreme Courthouse, and the Athenæum crowned with a large bronze statue of Minerva, might all be located in the largest cities in the colony without the risk of being overshadowed by others.

A tenth portion of the sections in each block was reserved for endowment and other municipal purposes, and the result is, about 130 of these, containing 1 rood each, are bringing in a satisfactory rental, and one that will in time produce such a revenue as will render the imposition of rates unnecessary.

Another important advantage is the splendid recreation estate. This consists of a public park, situated on the northern front, of 200 acres, which has been largely planted and improved; garden blocks of five acres in the centre of the town, through which the bubbling Puni Creek flows merrily to the estuary; and fully twenty blocks of land, known as the Town Belt, and situated on all sides, varying in size from 4 acres to 40 acres, and more or less improved and planted. These combined will in time render Invercargill a most delightful place for resort and residence.

The gasworks of Invercargill belong to the municipal authorities, and cost about £40,000. The price of gas is 7s. 6d. per 1,000 cubic feet to private con-sinners. The town is well lighted by 200 street lamps; and the quality of gas, manufactured from Greymouth coal, is reputed to be of superior brilliancy to that generally supplied to many cities of greater pretensions.

The town is supplied with water by the Corporation. It is pumped from a watertight iron-cylinder well, sunk to a depth of 105ft. The engines were manufactured by the Glenfield Company, Kilmarnock, and consist of two high-pressure horizontal steam-engines, each 15-horse power. Water can be pumped direct into the mains at any pressure up to 150lb. to the square inch. Ordinarily the water is pumped direct into the tank above the tower, morning and evening. In the event of fire the water is drawn up to an ascertained pressure both from the tower and by direct pumping into the mains, an automatic valve having been constructed to enable that to be accomplished. In that case eight hydrants with 1¼in. jets can be played on to a building, which should be sufficient to drown out almost any conflagration. The gravel stratum from which the water is pumped is 30ft. in depth, the strata both above and below consisting of a layer of brown coal, so that the gravel stratum might almost be called an underground river. The cylinders are 7ft. in diameter, and a continuous pumping for three months of 15,000 gallons an hour did not diminish the supply, which constantly stood, and still stands, at 25ft. from the surface. The tank contains 66,000 gallons, weighing about 300 tons. The tower was built from designs by the town engineer, Mr. William Sharp, Assoc. M.I.C.E. Its total weight-is 2,800 tons; 500,000 bricks, besides concrete, were used in its construction; the cost, with tank, being £5,000. The height of the gallery is 90ft., and to the top of the lantern 140ft. The total cost of the waterworks, including twenty-four miles of water-mains and services to every property, was £30,000.

In social institutions this, the southern city of the world, boasts of the following: Rifle, Artillery, and Cadet Volunteers; volunteer fire-brigades, athletic clubs, Rugby Football Union and clubs, cricket, lacrosse, tennis, bowling, rinking, boating, and sailing clubs. Besides these there are literary and debating societies, assembly balls, dramatic associations, temperance and friendly societies, Masonic lodges of the English, Scotch, and Irish Hew Zealand Constitutions. The Athenæum is most imposing as a structure, containing two reading-rooms that would be creditable to any city in the colony, and having a large library, a museum, and chess and draughts room within its walls. As exponents in re public opinion there are the Daily News and Southland Times, both well-established and well-respected daily papers with weekly editions, each office issuing fully 15,000 copies per week. Then, in the country districts there are three weekly newspapers and three newspapers issued semi-weekly.

Note 28.—Bill Fox Reaches the Out-Station.

This is the story told by the station shepherd: "I was sent down country to bring up a horse from the south, being the Kingston end of the lake. I had hoped to reach the peninsula that evening, but was unable to accomplish it, and camped out. Next morning (30th September, 1862) I fell in with three men carrying huge swags on their backs, and picks and shovels in their hands. They looked as if they had not seen food for some days, which was indeed the case, and yet the first thing they said when they saw me was not a request for food, but, 'Have you any tobacco? 'What I had was handed over to them, and then I gave them what little food remained. As we sat talking they informed me they had followed the Kawarau River up from the Dunstan, and were very anxious to get on to Rees's country. I told them Mr. Rees was to be at the foot of the lake that day, and if they pushed on and asked him he might give them a lift up in the boat, which they accordingly did, and Mr. Rees gave them a sail up to the station, and, having supplied them with provisions, sent them off to the Arrow River. The leader of the party was William Fox, and the township which sprang up on the Arrow afterwards for many years went by the name of Fox's. On the 8th October following I rode over to the Arrow and saw Fox. He gave me a tin-dish and told me to wash out a trial dish for luck. Putting a shovelful of earth from under a tematakauri bush growing on the banks of the river into the pan, he told me to wash away, showing me how to twirl the dish, gradually allowing the earth to float away, at the same time retaining the gold and black sand. Being a novice at the work I was naturally awkward, and Fox laughingly told me that I was washing all the gold away as well as the refuse. Granting such to have been the case, the fact remains that I panned out nearly four pennyweights of fine gold. It was my first attempt at gold-digging, but still there are few people, I fancy, who have washed out a much richer sample for their first attempt."

Note 29.—Southland.

When the New Provinces Act was passed in August, 1858 (see Note 1), steps were taken to cause the district south of the Mataura River to be proclaimed a new province; but it was not till the 31st March, 1861, this was accomplished. The first sitting of the first session of the Provincial Council of Southland was held on the 3rd August, 1861, and the Hon. Dr. Menzies, M.L.C., was elected the first Superintendent.

Before the railway was made between Invercargill and Bluff, the exports and imports of Southland passed through the New River Harbour, and in 1863 it was no uncommon sight to see twenty to fifty vessels of 600 and 700 tons capacity lying at anchor at the Lower and Upper Pools, as the two chief anchorages are named, or alongside the jetty at Invercargill. The ill-fated steamship "City of Dunedin," lost in Cook Strait on the 20th May, 1865, had been an occasional visitor to Invercargill.

The New River Harbour at high water shows such a magnificent expanse of seaway that the desire of the citizens to have the intercolonial vessels discharging directly at the western end of Invercargill is, we are told, not a mere visionary aspiration, but one that will no doubt be accomplished sooner or later. Sir John Coode and Mr. J. T. Thomson, C.E., both expressed the opinion that it was possible to deepen the channel at the heads to a depth of 20ft. at low-water spring tides at a moderate cost: the latter said for £65,000, and this because the bar is inside the entrance of the harbour, and can be improved at a low cost by training-walls built of stone, brought from the hill across the harbour by endless wire-ropes.

In the matter of education Southland of to-day stands out a striking contrast to Southland of the past, and brings out in bold relief the progress achieved by this flourishing district. In a report made by the Inspector of Schools for the year 1862-63 it is stated: The educational history of Southland for the past year has been one of much progress; twelve months previously there was only one school in the province, and now there are six, with an ordinary attendance of 165. These schools were located in Invercargill, South Riverton, Riverton, Waianiwa, and Longbush. In next report (1863-64) reference is made to the further progress, Invercargill school then having seventy pupils on its roll. A girls' school had also been established, with an attendance of twenty-one, the limit of capacity of the schoolroom. The attendance at the River ton school was thirty-one, Mr. Tarlton, the Inspector, adding that, Riverton being an old settled district, the children were more numerous, and that it would be seen that there were in all eight schools in the province, with an average attendance of 219. Then, again, from a subsequent report we learn the Education Board's grant was £50 per annum, the teacher receiving school fees, and the Board expresses a hope local Committees would not fail to guarantee that the fees would equal that amount. Further, it is "humbly hoped" the establishment of a central school at Invercargill would provide for uncertificated applicants qualifying themselves for appointments. Against these modest facts and figures, the educational programme of to-day gives Southland 115 schools, with an average attendance of 8,580. Exclusive of its suburbs, the attendance at Invercargill alone amounts to 2,800, not reckoning attendances at two Roman Catholic schools and seven fairly well attended private schools. In the matter of higher education the district has been provided with a girls' and a boys' high schools. The latter, although recently established, has, we are assured, produced students quite able to hold their own in examination with competitors for university degrees and scholarships. Further, we are told, churches of all denominations bear reasonable proportion to the population, the premier position being occupied by the Presbyterian body, whose first pastors, the Rev. Alexander Bethune (1857) and A. H. Stobo (1860), are still resident in Southland. The Rev. W. P. Tanner (1861), the first incumbent of St. John's Anglican Church, died in 1882. The First Presbyterian, St. John's Presbyterian, St. John's Anglican, the Catholic, the Wesleyan, and Primitive Methodist churches are all handsome buildings, excedingly creditable to a town that thirty years ago was the primæval wilderness. Southland area, for which Invercargill, Bluff Harbour, and the seaport town of Riverton are natural outlets, extends to over eight million acres, of which about six hundred thousand have been cultivated, and includes forests in the hands of the Crown of vast extent and immense value. Some of the bush areas, within a radius of thirty miles of Invercargill, supplied the sawmiller last year with 31,313,000ft. of timber, and in estimating the limits of the trade there falls to be added a large but unascertained quantity cut on private freeholds. This industry, carried on with great spirit and enterprise, may be said to have been a mainstay of the working-man in Southland for many years past, and continues to be of the greatest promise for the future.

Note 30.—The Mokomoko Jetty.

In a communication to the Superintendent of Southland, dated the 25th February, 1864, R. M. Marchant, who seems to have been an engineer in connection with the public works of that province, writes: "In reference to your Honour's requirement of a return of all money paid on account of the wharf at Mokomoko and the branch line of railway in connection therewith, I have the honour to inform you that £9,585 16s. 1d. has been paid on account of the wharf, and that I will return the amount paid on the branch line of railway in connection therewith as soon as I can obtain a return enabling me to separate a payment for work executed on the branch and main line together."

Note 31.—The Wooden Railway.

James R. Davis, C.E., in a report to the Superintendent of Southland, dated the 27th July, 1863, sums up as follows what he designates "the benefits to be anticipated from the adoption of the wooden rail instead of iron lines:" (1) The rapidity of construction where timber is convenient, and therefore not requiring any imported materials to lay the permanent-way; (2) the grip or bite given to the driving-wheels by wooden rails, rendering deep cuttings, heavy embankments, &c., less frequent, and consequently reducing the cost of construction; (3) reducing the cost of the superstructure of the rails nearly four-fifths; (4) reducing the wear-and-tear of engines and carriages about 20 per cent. by the absence of oscillation, concussion, &c., which in iron railways is so detrimental to the machinery; (5) the additional comfort to passengers by their easy transit along their journey; and (6) the diminished expense of forming the railway and working the trains, enabling the railway to carry goods and passengers at low rates.

By Authority: George Didsbury, Government Printer, Wellington.—1892.