Early Days on the West Coast.—Habits of the Maoris.

I find I am drawing near the end of these reminiscences, which, after all, cover but a few of the most remarkable incidents which have come under my observation during my long residence on this coast. I am an old man now, and looking back through the vista of the vanished years I see much to regret in the changes that time has wrought both in the character of the Maori and the appearance of the country. The beautiful forests have disappeared for ever before the bushman's axe, while fires have completed the work of devastation. What a change, for instance, has taken place in the appearance of the country in the vicinity of the Maire lake near Shannon since the days when my father settled there and established his rope-walk ! I always look back with feelings of the keenest pleasure to the time when we dwelt there on the banks of the Manawatu river, in the midst of those simple-minded children of Nature, then all unspoiled by the withering influences of our artificial civilisation. Our home was built in a beautiful spot near a dense bush composed of majestic ratas and pines, and a variety of lovely shrubs which formed a dense undergrowth, and among which grew graceful ferns, which rejoiced in the coolness, moisture, and shade of the sheltering trees. The bush was thronged with birds—pigeons, kakas, tuis, bell-birds, fan-tails, wrens, robins, and wekas. I shall never forget the forest choristers, how when the first faint rosy tint in the east proclaimed the advent of another day, a chorus of praise burst as with one accord from a thousand throats, their combined songs, warblings, chirpings, and screamings uniting in a joyous pean of untutored praise.-Even at this distance of time I can in imagination hear the soft coo of the pigeon, the noisy screams of garrulous kaka, the rescnant tones of the bell-birds, the inimitable gurgling song of the tui, the plaintive and diminutive melody of the wren—always in a minor key—the robin's cheerful song, and the chirpings and "kissing" of the blythe fan-tails, and with it all there comes the strange, sweet, indescribable fragrance of the bush, and life seems pure and sweet again.

"With the first rays of the sun the chorus ceased as suddenly as it begun, and general silence reigned till sunset, when it all a begun again and continued till darkness supervened, when heads were tucked beneath their tired wings till mprning dawned again, Snaring pigeons was a favourite pastime of the Maoris in those days, and I well remember when the Otauru stream, which emptied into the Maire lagoon, was a narrow stream of beautifully clear page 38 water, which ran through a dense bush which extended to the mountain ranges, where it had its source. Here, in the season when the miro berries were red ripe, the Maoris snared pigeons by hundreds. The following methods were employed in capturing them. These birds were accustomed to drink and bathe in the Otauru stream, but so dense was the growth of the forest overhead that it was possible for the Maoris, by carefully blocking numbers of the openings above the stream with boughs, to induce the birds to come down to it through openings purposely left overhead. Perches innumerable were provided on which the birds, after bathing, would perch and preen their feathers. Surrounding the perches were numerous snares, consisting of loops of cabbage-tree leaves, this fibre being stronger than flax. As the unwary birds fluttered about,-large numbers of them became entangled in the "snares of the fowler," where they remained dangling till morning at sunrise, this being the only time when the "tapu" allowed these spots to be visited.

I shall always remember the Maoris of my acquaintance in those by-gone days with the kindest of feeling, for I was often helped by them in many ways, and my frequent travels up and down the coast often made me the recipient of their kindly hospitality. By this means I was often enabled to gain a closer insight into their customs and manners than would have otherwise been possible, and I cannot help repeating that it has never been my lot to know a kinder or more hospitable people. Many a time have I dropped unexpectedly into their villages—an uninvited pakeha guest—and straightway they would proceed provide me the very best cheer their means afforded. The choicest foods and the very best mats were always provided me by these simple-minded, untutored, yet withal, generous and noble-minded people. I do not desire to hide my strong affection for the Maori race as a whole, for I have been privileged to know then intimately in the pre-pakeha days, before they became contaminated and debased under the blighting influence of a bastard civilisation, when every instinct of their natures prompted them to acts of kindness and generosity towards those who treated them in a spirit of fairness. There was a grandeur, dignity, and nobility of character about the old chieftains which could only have been the result of long hereditary influences, and their influence extended to the whole tribe, which, in a measure, would reflect the character of its chief. Is it any wonder that I sigh when I compare the happy condition of the Native race in those vanished days with its generally miserable and deplorable state to-day ? Where, now, is their Native nobleness and independence of character? Where their industries? Where their once well-kept and prolific plantations of potatoes, kumeras pumpkin melons, wheat, and maize ? Where their once strong, healthy, page 39 and sturdy men who numbered thousands, and in whose breasts there dwelt the burning love of adventure, poetry, and romance, as well as the fierce spirit of savage and mortal combat, and undying hatred of their foes ? Well may ye weep to-day over the mouldering bones of thy long-dead ancestors, and vainly do ye sigh over their cherished memories, for ye are a decadent race, and thy thousands have dwindled to hundreds, thy hundreds to scores, thy scores to tens ! The white man's civilisation will, era long, have engulped thee, and all that will remain will be a fast, it perishing, memory of a once-noble race.