The Pamphlet Collection of Sir Robert Stout: Volume 65
Paper I. — Memorandum of my First Journey to the Ruahine Mountain Range, and of the Flora of that Region. — With Additional and Copious Notes
Paper I.
Memorandum of my First Journey to the Ruahine Mountain Range, and of the Flora of that Region.
With Additional and Copious Notes.
—"One is useful to science, however, not only by work finished but also by work began. I will therefore make a commencement, though I may advance but a few steps."
Hist. Nat. Gen. des Règnes Organiques.
Isid. St. Hilaire.
"Pleon hemisu pantos." =The half is more than the whole.
Hesiod.
Being. the only European who has crossed the Ruahine mountain range, and that several times, (and at an early date in the history of the Colony of New Zealand,) I have been often asked to give some account of what I had seen there.
* From sea-weeds with which they were densely covered.
† I have particularly emphasised "salt";—this was for some time our greatest [unclear: want] we could not relish our unsavoury pork for want of it, and were beginning to feel the need of it. At length we hit on the plan of boiling down sea-water; the natives of the [unclear: plan] having a tolerably good-sized iron pot, which they lent us. At first, however, we were puzzled with the mixing of the two salts,—crystals of Sulphate of Magnesia (Epsom [unclear: such] and of Chloride of Soda (common salt),—which made our Salt terribly hitter; but this [unclear: we] ultimately got over by watching for the exact moment of crystallization, as the salt of [unclear: Such] crystallized earlier than that of Magnesia, and so, by quickly removing the pot from [unclear: the] fire, and pouring away the bittern, we succeeded in getting a little tolerably edible salt, [unclear: at] which we rejoiced! but it required several boilings and evaporatings to obtain even a [unclear: soul] quantity; partly, perhaps, owing to the freshness of the sea-water along shore. [unclear: Who] we got our salt and added to it the green fruit of the N.Z. Pepper (Piper excelsum), we wonderfully improved our cooking of pork! For plates and cups we used the large shells of the Paaua (Haliotis iris), plugging the holes with bits of wood; while, for not a few of: little common things, we realized, that " Necessity was the mother of invention."
* I may here also briefly mention how we came to be in want of water. During the first gale our large body of Maoris had to be battened down below in the hold (as we were also in the cabin), while confined there they were sadly in want of water, and finding the spare and full watercasks, pulled out the bungs to get at the water, and in the darkness and disorder lost and could not replace them,—and so the water all ran out! A scene fallowed when it was found out by the Captain.
† On that occasion Bishop "Williams and myself travelled together to To "Wairoa (Clyde of the present day) when we separated; the Bishop going overland to his home at Poverty Bay, and I going to mine in the far North, by a long inland circuitous and unknown route; first to Waikare Moana, Ruatahuna, and Te Whaiiti; thence, returning again to the E. Coast, to Whakataane, Maketu and Tauranga; and thence again inland by a zig-zag route from coast to coast,—to Waikato (down the river to its mouth) and by beach to Manukau, thence to Kaipara, Waipu and Whangarei,—on to the Bay of Islands and Te Waimate. A copy of my dotted track on this occasion, which I had taken by compass and mapped, with the names and positions of places and rivers (till then unknown), was sent by Bighop Selwyn to London, and was subsequently ongraved and published by Arrow-smith in the maps of New Zealand.
* For a further notice of this event, and of this ancient chief, see "Transactions N.Z Institute", vol. XI. p. 86.
* See Note A, appendix.
But to return:—Having made ready all my little preparations, and got my travelling party of six baggage-bearers together on Monday, the 3rd February, the next morning at 8 we started from Waitangi,—and after a long and weari-some journey by Okokoro (near the present Pakipaki) and the Taheke (on the E. side of Poukawa lake†), we gained the islet in the lake Rotoatara by 8 p.m., all hands being pretty well knocked up; the whole country being so rough and wet, and the slippery maori foot-track through the dense scrub so very narrow! (from their turning-in their feet, and, being without shoes, never deviating from it,) that it often caused me to slip, and to stumble right and left.
* The question may reasonably arise,—Why did I make such a bad selection for a residence, seeing that at that early period I had the whole land open before me?—But [unclear: then] was no choice in it! And it was only after some days spent in talking over it, with the five principal chiefs of the S. side of Hawke's Bay and their relatives, that we (Bishop Williams and myself) got that small piece of land (10 acres) assigned at all. And it was gravely and perhaps (as things then were amongst them) judiciously decided, that I could only have a piece allotted me there; such being a tabooed spot (as I have already stated, and so belonging to them all, and therefore in residing there I should be equally open to them all; for if I had been located on a better site near to one of their pas, then I should be considered as belonging to that sub-tribe resident therein, and so not free to all,—especially in their often jealous squabbling among themselves; and as to my residing any where inland—away from one of their pas—such was not to be thought of, and could not be allowed. At the same time, my business was to be as much as possible among the bulk of the people.
† In those days the only narrow maori track inland lay on that side of the lake. No maori then lived at To Aute, which was all a dense extensive forest; neither was there any road or track that way, from Te Aute (where Te Hapuku's pa and marble bust [unclear: is) to] Kaikoura and Waipawa.
After a restless night, the next morning I found myself too unwell to rise early, hut as I wished to get over the range before Sunday (so as to spend that day quietly somewhere at Patea), we started afresh at 11 o'clock, and travelling slowly on in a Westerly direction halted at sunset on the banks of the river Mangaonuku, in Te Ruataniwha plain.
Thursday morning was ushered in by heavy rain! which, to my great regret, continued to pour throughout the whole day.—My situation here was very uncomfortable, for my old tattered summer tent (as we were not near any forest and not carrying poles) had been but slightly pitched, supposing when we halted that we were only here for a few hours, and intending to leave early in the morning,—but there was nothing better. To add to one's misery was the oft-repeated statements of my natives,—that the rivers would be flooded and so prove impassable after this downpour!—they were already getting disheartened.
A night of heavy rain was followed by a dirty-looking lowering morning, but as we hoped the rain was over we started at 9 a.m., making directly across the great plain, through the long dripping grass, every now and then stumbling across some wild pigs, which here were both numerous and large, and in some instances were quite prepared to stand and shew fight! which they invariably did whenever we came suddenly upon them without their seeing us, or we, indeed, them. On reaching the river Waipaoa,—which we did not far from the present I Tillage of Tikokino,—(there were no natives residing in those parts then,) we travelled up its stony bed, wading across it with difficulty several times, as it was nearly three feet deep and rapid withal. At 3 p.m. we reached the junction of this river with the river Maakaroro, and proceeded up the stony bed of the latter until 6 p.m., when, it being nearly dark where we were, we halted for the light in the bed of the river.—
"Where flows the fountain silently
It blooms a lovely flower;
White as the purest virgin snow,
It speaks like kind fidelity,
Through fortune's sun and shower:"—
* We had gathered it together at the Kerikeri waterfall in the Bay of Islands in [unclear: 1838].
—"Soaring snow-clad through its native sky,
In the wild pomp of mountain majesty."
But the sight of that snow there on the ridge before us did not increase our comfortable feelings and thoughts.
* See Note B, appendix.
Our journey this day was a very fatiguing and disagreeable one all the way we had come, for it lay in the river's bed, either in the water or along its [unclear: stony] and rocky banks, which gradually contracted. In some places the sides of the river were perpendicular, and in others impending, and from 100 to 250 feet high, with fine forests of Fagus on the top; the trees of which were continually falling down along with the earth into the river beneath. Here and there [unclear: as] immense mass of earth had slipped quietly down the upright cliffs bringing the large trees with it, standing as they originally grew; these had been arrested in their descent when about half-way down, and there they stood in the side of the cliff fair and flourishing; in two or three spots during the day I noticed a double slip or subsidence of this nature, in which there were two tiers of living trees [unclear: so] standing in the side of the cliff; adding not a little of a novel and picturesque nature to the scene. I had fully intended in passing-on to take on my return a sketch of this unique landscape, but (as it will be seen) pressing circumstances prevented me.
I had carefully examined the earth and stones throughout the whole journey up this river on both sides, and also for some short distance up the two smaller ones at the fork, but I found no indications of anything save the common rocks the limestone formation of Hawke's Bay had long disappeared; the cliffs being composed of a yellowish argillaceous clay with red veins, reminding me of those of the Bay of Islands and of Pencarrow Head in Cook's Straits. In one place only in the Eastern bank did I discover a few traces of fossils, not however in limestone (as is so common in Hawke's Bay) but in a kind of dark indurated clay, resembling the clay formation of the East Cape; but though the matrix was not very hard, I could not get a single specimen perfect or nearly so; and as I knew I should return by the same course, I left them for my return journey down the river.
* That is, The spring, or water of weariness,—or, of being quite worn out!
—"When the sun begins to fling
His flaring beams, mo, goddess, bring
To arched walks of twilight groves,
And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves,* * *
There in close covert by some brook,
Where no profaner eye may look.—
And may at last my weary age
Find out the peaceful hermitage,
The hairy gown and mossy cell,
Where I may sit and rightly spell
Of every star that heaven doth shew,
And every herb that sips the dew."—
"There at the foot of yonder nodding Beech,
That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high,
His listless length at noontide would he stretch,
And pore upon the brook that babbles by."
—"bursts are seen
Of beauty on the beech tree; a rich shade
Of crimson teeming life; buds sanguine hued,
As though the sunset clouds had o'er them play'd
Until they left their dye upon the cone
Tipping each slender branch with beauty all their own."
"Some are reddish, some brown, some grey, and some black,
And they are puckered, edged, button'd, or fringed, front and back:
Some are lying like leather close under your feet,
Some waving from trees in the forest you'll meet."
—Miss Twamley.
* Of these two Orchids I have recently (1882) made two new species, Earina [unclear: quandrilsbata] and Dendrobiun Lessonii, having last year re-discovered them growing pretty profusely and in flower in a few spots in the "70-mile Bush." (Vide Trans. N.Z. Inst., vol. XV., pp. 325—328, for full description.
"Holds a rank
Important in the plan of Him who framed
This scale of beings; holds a rank which, lost,
Would break the chain and leave behind a gap
Which Nature's self would rue."—
On many of these trees grew parasitically another fine Lorantlus (L. tetrapetalus) in dense bushes bearing crimson flowers in profusion, so that, in some more open spots among the closely-growing trees the whole forest wore a reddish glare, especially when such was so situated on a western slope as to become heightened by the beams of the setting sun. I have noticed this on several occasions in passing through those woods; and, also, that at, or near, sunset, all flowers or leaves of a red colour, throw out, as it were, a profuse kind of red glow at that particular hour: this I have also often observed here in our Napier gardens. Another peculiarity pertaining to this species of Loranthus was its generally being found at a pretty uniform height from the ground, some 15—20 feet, seldom lower or higher. At the spot where we halted I discovered a fine bushy: Compositaceous shrub of stout diffuse growth, having peculiar dark-green leaves, thick broad and serrated, reminding me at first sight, of those of the Hydrangea; this plant has been named by Dr. Hooker Olearia Colensoi.
It was now Saturday night, and, our slender supper and prayers over, we sat for a while in the deepening gloom of the forest to talk, or, rather, to ruminate moodily over our position.
"Within the solemn wood,
Solemn and silent everywhere!
Nature with folded hands seemed there,
Kneeling at her evening prayer!"
* The present well-known old chief, the head of his sub-tribe, Paora (= Paul) Kai-whata; who was then a fine strong young native, and one of my baggage-bearers on that memorable occasion, and not unfrequently carried me on his back through the deeper waters of the river. He, also, accompanied me in a similar capacity on several journeys to Pates, Palliser Bay, and elsewhere, in after years, and did good and voluntary service to the Church Mission.
"Sounds inharmonious in themselves and harsh,
Yet heard in scenes where peace for ever reign
And only there, please highly for their sake."
And also, at intervals, that,—" Silence in its depth speaks."
—"calm and secure retreat
Of sacred silence, rest's eternal seat!"
We left the tent, &c., and retreated some distance into the dry woods, and there sat on the soft thick moss, where we held Divine Service,—in all likelihood the first Christian service on that mountain. Here " a dim religious light" was shed around; and though the scene might be deficient in some of those association which are wont to add solemnity to the hallowed fane;—yet " He who [unclear: dwelleth] not in temples made with hands," is in very deed present within the solitudes:—so I have often felt.
"The groves wore God's first temples. Ere man learned
To hew the shaft and lay the architrave,
And spread the roof above them; ere he framed
The lofty vaults to gather, and roll back
The sound of anthems,—in the darkling wood,
Amidst the cool and silence he knelt down,
And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks
And supplication. For his simple heart
Might not resist the sacred influences,
That, from the stilly twilight of the place,
And from the grey old trunks that high in heaven
Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound
Of the invisible breath that swayed at once
page 15 All their green tops, stole over him, and bowed
His spirit with the thought of boundless power
And inacessible Majesty. Ah, why
Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect
God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore
Only among the crowd and under roofs,
That our frail hands have raised!
—————Be it ours to meditate
In these calm shades Thy milder majesty
And to the beautiful order of Thy works,
Learn to conform our lives."——
We spent the day quietly, sometimes reading together (in the N.T. our only vernacular book), sometimes thinking on and talking of our two absent companions; no one caring to move about. The water too, of our little spring, taken a little higher up, was delightfully cool and good tasted,—indeed delicious. My poor companions, however, had suffered much from their long walk with naked feet over those horrid stones and so much wading! and having but little to eat, and tobacco not yet being in fashion among them, they preferred sleeping to talking; so I was left in great measure to my own resources.
"To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell,
To slowly trace the forest's shady scene,
Where things that own not man's dominion dwell,
And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been;
To climb the trackless mountain all unseen,
With the wild flock that never needs a fold;
Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean;
This is not solitude; 'tis but to hold
Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd."
"There is a quiet spirit in these woods,
That dwells where'er the gentle land wind blows.
——————And here, amid
The silent majesty of these deep woods
Its presence shall uplift thy thoughts from earth,
As to the sunshine and the pure, bright air
Their tops the green trees lift."
The next morning we were awake and up very early,—to escape our foes, which commenced their persecution with the sun, and to receive our absent friends and, it might be, visitors; for no Maori likes to be taken unawares. Our scanty meal and prayers ended, we agreed to go on towards the summit, thinking it was near, and hoping soon to meet those whom we were so anxiously expecting. Leaving our tent and all baggage there, and taking our axe with page 16 us, (my natives each only wearing a shirt,) we started. Hour after hour, however, passed in arduous toil before we gained the top; the primeval forest being so filled with decaying trees and prostrate limbs and tangled shrubs and herbage, that we could scarcely get through it. We had some difficulty also in finding and keeping in the track of our two companions who had preceded us; this, in an untrodden forest is curious, and deserves mention;—the guide, or foremost one, (if he is right in his course,) every now and then half breaks through the top or conspicuous side branch of a shrub or small tree, and allows it to hang down; this operation, called pawhatiwhati,* is of great use to those behind, and to strangers and stragglers, who, of course, look out for it, taking care not to do the same. And these marked trees so remain and are of service for several years, as I have often proved. Care, however, must be taken not to confound those broken or bent purposely by man, with those broken accidentally by big falling branches of the higher trees, or bent down by the weight of the snow in the winter. Certain thick stemmed and tough shrubs, in particular those having large leaves, are well fitted for the purpose, and are always selected, if at hand:—as various species of Panax, and of Coprosma;—for the half broken and reverted branch dries gradually and so retains its leaves on it, which, after a little experience, is easily caught by the sharp eye of the Maori. At times (in after years) when puzzled as to our course in the forests, I have both known of, and joined in, a consultation over the broken branch of a shrub;—whether it was done purposely by man, or accidentally through natural causes; and times have been with me and my party when even life depended on it! In the event of branches wrongly broken, and so having to retrace one's steps and alter one's course,—first, the hanging branches are plucked away, and, secondly, a handful of tops of leafy branches, or big ferns is placed on the moss athwart that erring path or opening, which serves to warn those who come after; this also remains in tact for years.
* That is, Touch and break gently.
* In after years I crossed and recrossed this pass several times, the last time being in May, 1852,—and always, by taking care and only travelling in the summer season, with-out loss or great danger. On two occasions, however, we met with little adventures, which may be here mentioned as illustrations of the place. One happened in returning late that season from Patea; we had seen from where we were at Maketu (a village of Patea), that E: snow had fallen on the range, (which fell as rain where we then were,) and so we had to wait a few days until it was melted; this taking place we started. On the pass, however, I, in boots, slipped down a yard or two, but holding my ground through my long and tough maori spear, which I invariably carried, was helped out.—The second also happened on returning to Hawke's Bay on another occasion,—when one of my maoris, who had often gone with me, seeing the pass looking so clear and firm and tempting, with the sun, too, shining on it, took a run down the high slope from the "W. side leading to it, and keeping too much down was carried off his legs by the treacherous wet and slippery debris for a moment we feared for him, but I called out to him to stop, if possible, and make no exertion, when, by joining hands and ropes and with my tent poles, we got him safely up on surer ground. He had a good fright, however, which was also salutary to him, and to all—for the future. I had ample proof of the deceptiveness and danger of the place; which fully bore out all the old maori relations of it.
"Far in the distance dark and blue,
Each hill's huge outline you might view;
Clothed with brown fern, but lonely bare,
Nor man, nor beast, nor house was there.
Yet even this nakedness has power
And aids the feeling of the hour:
There's nothing left to fancy's guess
You see that all is loneliness:
And silence aids,—voice sounds too rude
So stilly is the solitude."*
* From Scott's "Marmion", Introduction to Canto II., altered to suit the scene.
† Or rather the small blanched bases of the leaves, which affords a scanty [unclear: nutrimeal].
I have told the story of our troubles, I will also give that of our joys,—or, rather, (spealdng correctly,) of mine,—for I was quite sure that my companions: shared it not with me,—quite the contrary;—so I had it all to myself.
* This is another plant I had long been looking out for, as it was originally discovered by Forster in the S. Island, when here with Cook, and on it he had established his [unclear: genes] Banksia, in honour of Sir Joseph Banks, (B. Gnidia,) and it had not boon met with since.
"Flowers tell of a season when men were not,
When earth was by angels trod;
And leaves and flowers in every spot
Burst forth at the call of God;
When Spirits singing their hymns at even,
Wandered by wood and glade;
And the Lord looked down from the highest heaven,
And blessed what He had made."
It was observable, also, that while all those plants already named with many others were small-sized dwarf plants, pretty nearly of a uniform height, only rising a few inches above the soil, and growing together as thickly as they could stow,—more indeed, in this respect, like short turfy Grasses, or Mosses,—there were also among them several new species of the common N.Z. genera,—the known species of which in other parts were mostly to be found as tall shrubs and small trees,—but here the new species were only of a very low rambling prostrate habit, resembling large trailing Mosses, almost hidden among the low herbaceous plants already mentioned; those new plants comprised Myrsine nummularia, Pittosporum rigidum* Podocarpus nivalis, Coriaria angustissima, Dracophyllum recurvum, and several elegant Alpine species of Veronica, such as,—nivalis, Lyallii, and catarractœ.
"Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air."—
Nor could I forget what is related of Linnæus,—who, on his arrival in England, and first seeing the wild broken country covered with the common yellow Furze': in full blossom, fell on his knees in ecstasy at such a sight.† Sure enough I am, that I then understood Linnæus' action, and fully sympathized with him.—
* Discovered by me 2 years before on the mountains of Huiarau, during my second long journey through the interior; but there only as a shrub 4—5 feet high, being at a much lower altitude.
† Having mentioned this, I may be permitted also to add, on the authority of our great English Botanist Sir J. E. Smith,—that Linnteus having taken a plant of our British Furze with him to Sweden, always lamented that he could scarcely preserve it alive through a Swedish winter, oven in a greenhouse.
But how was I to carry off specimens of those precious prizes? and had I time to gather them? These mental questions completely staggered me for I realised my position well. We had left our encampment early that morning, as I have already said, thinking the crest of the mountain range was not far off, and, consequently, taking nothing with us; so we were all empty-handed and no "N.Z. Flax" (Phormium) grew there. However, as I had no time to lose, I first pulled off my jacket, or small travelling coat, and made a bag of that, and that (driven by necessity!) I added thereto my shirt, and by tying the neck, &c., got an excellent bag; while some specimens I also stowed into the crown of my hat. I worked diligently all the time I was there,—and, though I did all that I possibly could, I felt sure I left not a little untouched.* Fortunately the day was an exceedingly fine one, calm and warm, so that I did not suffer from want of clothing. That night I was wholly occupied with my darling specimens, putting them up, as well as I could, in a very rough kind of way, among my spare clothing, bedding, and books;† only getting about 2 hours sleep towards morning.
* But probably secured in following years.
† It may be worth recording for the N.Z. Colonist, and with the hope of encouraging the acquisition of specimens under difficulties, that of those specimens of Alpine [unclear: plant] obtained with difficulty on this occasion,—drawings of nearly 50 have been published, by Dr. Hooker, in his Flora Novœ Zclandiœ, and by his father Sir Wm. J. Hooker, in [unclear: his] Plantarum, and Species Filicum; and, further, for many years those specimens were the only ones known of these plants to the Botanists of Europe.
‡ Now, at date of publication, upwards of 32 years! Tempus fugit!
* This story was too good to be lost, especially to a. fighting race like the Maori, and the joke was long kept up at the expense of the poor fellow!
† My bearers, too, having been warned, some by experience and some by hearsay, took with them on this occasion sundry old cast clothing to use as defensive armour. Dr. Hooker, in his Hand Book N.Z. Flora, (1864), says:—"There are apparently two varieties-both are called" [down S.], "Spear-Grass," and "Wild Spaniard". Sir D. Munro states that it forms a thicket impenetrable to men and horses." p.92.
‡ Taramea being the Maori name of this plant; meaning, The rough spiny thing; not unlike, in meaning, that given to it by Forster.
§ In a subsequent journey I brought away living plants of Aciphylla (with several other mountain novelties), which did pretty well in my garden at the Station at Waitangi for some 2—3 years, until a heavy flood came, when they (with many other Alpine plants) were submerged and killed by the thick deposit of silt. Five species are [unclear: we] known, and described by Dr. Hooker. Dr. Lauder Lindsay has also subsequently fully described Aciphylla Colensoi, with coloured drawings and dissections in his "Contributions to the Botany of New Zealand",—a work that I have only very recently seen.
Had our countrymen and fellow-colonists from Great Britain,—from
—————"the hills of the North,—
Where bloom the red Heather and Thistle so green;"—
had they ever required an indigenous plant in N.Z. to supply the place of their National emblem—" Old Scotland's symbol dear"—the Thistle, this one would have nicely suited them. For such another could scarcely be found so highly adapted in every repect to bear their well-known motto,—"Nemo me impune lacessit."
One other curious plant I should also like to mention; a plant in every respect the very opposite of the Aciphylla,—for it was small and soft (woolly), and only one was seen! not only on that occasion but on every other, for I have never met with it since, although I have often sought it diligently; nor has it since been found in the South Island (or any where else) save once by the late Dr. Sinclair; who, according to Dr. Hooker, met with it at Tarndale, at about the same elevation (5000 feet) and in a similar situation "growing in shingle," This little shrubby plant of only a few inches high, is a very peculiar one,—it scarcely seems like a living plant at all, being so dry and sapless and densely woolly, more like an artificial flower, or those which we may have sometimes seen projecting in alto relievo from thick floccose or rough dining-room wall papers. Every part of it, stem branches leaves and flowers, is alike covered with dense white wool, giving it a strange appearance. This plant, a species of Helichrysum, or Gnaphalium (G. Colensoi), grew on the edge of the top of the second ugly pass,—composed entirely of dry shingle of various sizes from big lumps to dust,-(which was continually falling from the cliffy height above, where the rock and stones were undergoing rapid disintegration through the incessant action of the elements,)—up this it was difficult to climb from the softness of the pile of natural "metal" and the great steepness of its incline, in which we sank to our knees at every step, and sometimes were carried down a few feet by the rolling shingle. A drawing of it is given in the Flora Novœ Zealandiœ under the name of Helichrysum leontopodium; the difference however between those two geners (Helichrysum and Gnaphalium) being so very slight and tending to separate closely-allied species, they are now combined by Dr. Hooker in his Hand Book of the N.Z. Flora. This little plant is allied to the celebrated Edel-weiss of the Swiss Alps. Near to this plant grew another, a species of Geurn (G. parviflorum)* which, curiously enough, was also a solitary one of that species, it not having again been detected in the North Island,—though it has been found in similar localities in the South Island, both by Dr. Sinclair and by Dr. Hector; and Dr. page 25 Hooker also found it in the Auckland Islands group;* it is also found in S. Chili and Fuegia,
Single plants, like these two last mentioned, found alone in their natural habitat, each, too, bearing a profusion of flowers and seeds,—raise a curious question in Geographic Botany; one causing much thought and not easily answered.—
I must not omit to notice the Grasses of the mountain. Of them I found: several species (more than I had expected) belonging to various genera, these have all been subsequently published by Dr. Hooker.† A few of them are identical with some of our esteemed English pasture grasses,—as Festuca duriuscula (Hard Fescue), and Agrostis, species, and also Hierochloe alpina; while others of them are also found in Tasmania and Australia. Some are new, and have not yet been detected any where else in New Zealand; others of them have been since found in the South Island;—one, a new species of Poa (P.Colensoi), which I brought from the summit, is common in the South Island, and is said to be among the best of the indigenous food grasses of New Zealand;‡—and, curiously enough, one species, Catabrosa antarctica, has only been hitherto met with in the far off antarctic islet Campbell Island, where it was also found by Dr. Hooker. None, however, grew thickly together forming pastures,—like the well-known native grass here on our Hawke's Bay hills, Microlœna stipoides, and the common grasses of our meadows,—except here and there around a few snow holes, and snow water courses of gentle declivity, where a very short pale grass grew thickly,§ but only extending a few feet each way; it always bote a half-withered appearance, no doubt caused by the snow and the sun. Nearly all of the various species of Grasses were found in single plants or small tuffs scattered among other herbage,—except the one short turfy species by the snow holes before mentioned; and one other small grass, a species of Erharta (E.Colensoi), which grew in cushion-like patches, or large tufts, scattered here and there on the tops.
* This plant was first described by Dr. Hooker in his Flora Antarctica, vol. I, as Sievmia albiflora; where a drawing of it is also given.
† Plates of several of these Grasses are also given by Dr. Hooker in his Flora Novœ Zealandiœ.
‡ Some time ago I received a letter from a friend, a Naturalist, travelling in the South Island;. in it he says:—"For the first time I had some idea of the importance of those Grasses Poa Colensoi and Festuca duriuscula to the stock feeder. Thousands of acres of poor stony land are covered, or, correctly speaking, carry little else than these Grasses, mixed sparingly with Trisetum Youngii, Raoulia, Gentian, and Aciphylla Colensoi; but the stock feeding on such pasture is everywhere in good condition."
§ Said, by Dr. Hooker, to be a depauperated variety of Festuca duriuscula; found also on the mountains in the South Island.
"This is the highest point.—
How bleak and bare it is! Nothing but mosses
Grow on these rocks.—
———Yet are they not forgotten;
Beneficent Nature sends the mists to feed them."
Numerous species of the beautiful Order of Hepatiœ I also managed to secure and bring away; the drawings of several of them with magnified dissections have also been given by Dr. Hooker in his Flora Novœ Zealandiœ; these, however, must be seen and studied in order to appreciate them; for, minute and insignificant as many of them appear to be at first sight, and to the untrained eye, no Natural Order of Plants more richly repay investigation, or more fully exhibit the wondrous and lovely variety skill and economy of Nature.
"God made them all,
And what he deigns to make should no'er be deem'd
Unworthy of our study and our love.
———The man
Whom Nature's works can charm, with God Himself
Holds converse."
The view from the top on the Eastern and Northern sides was very extensive,—extending from Cape Kidnappers to Table Cape, and thence to Mount Tongariro and further. The whole of Hawke's Bay with all the interior plains appeared like an immense panorama spread out beneath us,—but much too distant low and flat, and too dull in its colours,—of rusty fern, and dingy [unclear: Raupo] (Typha), and pale cutting-grasses, and dry withered plains, with a lead-coloured misty-looking sea in the distance,—to present anything of a pleasing appearance. In the view from the summits looking towards the East I was greatly disappointed.
* Named by me S. botryoides, from its clustered fruit; but altered by Professor [unclear: Babington], to its present name. And now, (1884,) finally removed to the genus Piloohoros (P. Colensoi), by Dr. Knight.—Trans. N.Z. Instit., vol. XVI. p. 400, with a drawing.
Two other small animals captured during this journey may also be briefly mentioned. One was a very singular Spider, which I obtained in the lower forests, living in nooks and crannies in the earth at the foot of trees and shrubs; it was of a thick oblong shape, and black colour, much more arched in its back than spiders generally are, with several curious sharp jutting points in its back and sides, making it appear more like a beetle than a spider, and giving it a very strange appearance, altogether different from any species of Spider I had ever before seen: of this species I got several specimens. The other was a peculiar little molluscous animal, of the Limæan genus Limax,—a kind of slug about 1½ inches long, possessing a small external dorsal shell, and therefore probably belonging to the genus Testacella of Cuvier,—which, however, has its; shell near its posterior extremity. This pretty little animal I found on moss on a living Beech tree, very near the summit of the range. I only obtained one specimen, which, I regret to say, I lost, and never after met with another.—
The remainder is now very briefly told.—
Tuesday, Feby. 11. At an early hour this morning we struck tent, ate our scanty breakfast, packed up, and commenced our journey back to the Station. We travelled on all day (as we had agreed to do,) in moody silence, until 7 p.m., when we halted for the night at a little wooded place on the banks of the Waipaoa river called Motu-o-wai, and not far from the present village of Tikokino— page 28 formerly well-known, but now that isolated wood of white pine trees is washed away! We were very tired and hungry, and sore with so much walking over boulders and stones in the bed of the river, and with the incessant wading; 108 times* did we wade in this day's march across the main stream, in some places the current was so strong and the water so deep that we could scarcely keep our footing; the water, too, in the upper portion of the river, was icy cold. We lay down that night without much ceremony, and early the next morning we resumed our journey, reaching the western banks of the Lake Rotoatara at 1 p.m. Here we bawled to the pa on the island for a canoe, and made small fires of herbage (there being no wood) as signals, but were neither heard nor seen (the wind being against us). At sunset, however, we were fortunately observed; and crossing over to the island we got food and slept there. The next morning, public prayers and breakfast over, we started pretty early for the Mission Station, where we arrived at 8 p.m., very weary,—but, I trust thankful to God for His many mercies.—
And thus ends my first attempt to cross the Ruahine mountain range.
——"Nil sine magno
Vita labore dedit mortalibus."
Hor.
* In after years I travelled several times to and from Patea by this route, but always made, whether going or returning, 108 wadings. To make sure of their number, I always tied a cord to the button-hole of my coat, and every crossing made a knot in it. Wishing to find an easier route to the interior, having also tried several, I tried one leading from near the gorge in the Manawatu river, by the rivers Puhanginga, Oroua, and Rangitikei,-having been induced to do so from the representations of some old Maoris of Manawatu,-but that took me more than twice as long on my journey to Patea, and gave me, in two days, 237 wadings! we sustained much hardship on that occasion, in the dense forests on the W. side of the Ruahine range. After my return from this first journey, I suffered more than 2 months from sciatica brought on by those wadings in that icy river, bivouacking, and want of proper nourishment.