The Tarawera eruption, 1886

Massy, E. I., Proprietor of the "Empire Review", London, 1903

THE TARAWERA ERUPTION 1886

E. I. MASSY

SOPHIA.

(From a Photograph by R. Seldon, Wairoa.)

THE TARAWERA ERUPTION 1886

By E. I. MASSY

Published by

THE PROPRIETOR OF THE "EMPIRE REVIEW,"

LONDON.

LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, DUKE STREET, STAMFORD STREET, S.E., AND GREAT WINDMILL STREET, W.

TO THE KINDLY MAORI PEOPLE I LIKE SO WELL THIS LITTLE BOOK IS Dedicated.

CONTENTS.

PAGE

Introductory Note xi

CHAPTER I.

Story of the Eruption as told by Sophia the old Native Guide ........ 13

CHAPTER II.

Visit to the Great Waimangu Geyser . . .28

CHAPTER III.

Maori Characteristics . . . . . . . 36

ILLUSTRATIONS.

Sophia. (From a Photograph by B. Seldon, Wairoa) Frontispiece

Tarawera Mountain, Rotomahana Lake. (From a Photograph by B. Seldon, Rotorua) . . Facing page 14

The White Terraces. (From a Photograph by Josiah Martin, Auckland) . . . . Facing page 18

Sophia's Wharé, Wairoa. (From a Photograph by R. Seldon, Rotorua) . . . . Facing page 22

The Great Waimangu Geyser. (From a Photograph by R. Seldon, Rotorua.) . . . Facing page 28

INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

When staying in the North Island of New Zealand last year, I often visited the geysers at Whakarewarewa, and had many opportunities of talking to Sophia, the old Tarawera guide, whose native name, Hinerangi, means young girl in Heaven. She was born at Russell, Bay of Islands, in' 1830, her father, Alexander Grey, being a Scotchman, and her mother, Hinerangi, a pure-blooded Maori, of the Tohurangi tribe.

Although Sophia was baptized by the missionaries into the Protestant faith, I fancy she has not altogether discarded the superstitious beliefs and traditions of her mother's people, for though several religious denominations have invited her to join their ranks, her invariable reply is that she prefers the creed of her early years, and does not care to change. She married a Maori, Tiawihio, and had three children —Davey, George and Miriam, all of whom are now living. In her younger days Sophia was, I am told, a very pretty girl; even now, at her advanced age of seventy-three years, she is a striking looking woman, with a fine presence, and very good manners. Indeed she seems to have inherited many of the good characteristics of both races.

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INTRODUCTORY NOTE

I never tired of hearing her relate the thrilling story of the awful catastrophe of the 10th of June, 1886, and then it was the idea came to me of recording this fine old woman's terrible experience on that night of horror. This I now propose to do, although I can never reproduce her striking language and dramatic gestures, or paint the fire that flashed from her eyes, when she told me how she restrained those sixty-two people from rushing out of her wharé (house), to certain destruction.

E. I. M.

THE TARAWERA ERUPTION 1886

CHAPTER I.

STORY OF THE ERUPTION AS TOLD BY SOPHIA THE OLD NATIVE GUIDE.

"Lady! I had been guide to the Pink and White Terraces at Tarawera for sixteen years, when the dreadful Eruption took place, and utterly destroyed the lovely work of nature which was more beautiful than I can tell you.

"They are gone—quite gone, those lovely terraces —some people say buried, but I know better, they are blown to bits, as the whole of that side of Tarawera burst up. Well! I will tell you the story of that dreadful night, though it makes my heart ache, and I can't help the tears coming when I think of the relations and friends I have lost, and the happy days I passed guiding my visitors round, and showing them what they said was one of the most beautiful sights in the world.

"A party of visitors had come up from Dunedin and Christchurch, and arranged with me to take them to Rotomahana Lake at 8 o'clock in the morning.

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We started walking for the boats, and when we got down to the creek, found it was all dry. There was no water, and the boats were stuck in the mud. When I saw this I was astonished, for the boats here used to float in plenty of water. I could not understand it, and said to the people, 'My word! this is a new thing, the creek is dry.' And they replied, 'Yes, Sophia, it is something quite new.'

"Whilst we were standing there, the water began to come up with a crying sound all along the shores of the lake, and as it rose it floated the boats up and up, and went right to the waterfall, and then rushed back again leaving the creek dry as before. Then I called out to the crew, 'Come up, come up, be quick, there is a new thing here.' And when they got down to the side of the bridge, there was no water at all, and again the boats were high and dry in the creek, and for the second time we heard the water returning with a crying, moaning sound. Hu, hu, hu, it whimpered, as it swept round the edges of the shore.

"The boatmen and other natives looked at each other, not understanding this strange thing, and said: 'Sophia, was it like this when you came down?' I answered, 'Yes.' Whereupon the visitors became very frightened and said, 'Sophia, we must go back;' but the natives said, 'No! tell the pakehas (white people) not to go back, but to come on in the boat.' They were anxious of course to finish the excursion, for they were to get seventeen shillings a head, and as there were nine visitors this meant a sum they did not wish to lose.

TARAWERA MOUNTAIN, ROTOMAHANA LAKE. Site of Pink Terraces showing in foreground.

(From a Photograph by R. Seldon, Rotorua.)

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"The boatman urged them saying, 'Yes, yes, it is all right, jump in,' so they got in and we commenced to pull. I was steering, but as we went along I noticed that the waters of the lake were very high, and that the boat hardly required any steering, for there was only an inch or two of vegetation to be seen above the surface of the water, where the rushes used to grow very high, and a good deal of steering used to be required, but on this occasion we passed out straight into the lake over the tops of the rushes and weeds.

"We pulled away about a mile and a half when I looked round and saw a small canoe with one man in it come from under a Christmas tree. We thought it was some one going to catch kouras (a species of fresh-water crayfish) and the men said, 'Look, there is some one going to catch kouras,' but as we looked the canoe got larger and shot out into the lake, and then from one man the number increased to five, they were all paddling fast, fast, but to our horror they appeared to have dogs' heads on the bodies of men. Then the canoe got larger till it looked like a war canoe, and then we saw thirteen in it all paddling faster and faster. Whilst we were watching astonished and terrified (for the boatmen had stopped rowing) the canoe got smaller until only five men were left, and at last there remained but one very big man, the canoe got still smaller and then with the last remaining man disappeared into the waters of the lake.

"After seeing this the visitors became much alarmed and very excited. 'Sophia,' they said, 'do

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18

please take us back, we are very frightened, and are sure something dreadful is going to happen,' but I persuaded them to go on. 'What!' I said, 'you come all this way to see the Pink and White Terraces, and want to go back without visiting them. No, no, it is all right; see, we will go on.' I must tell you, lady, that one of the gentlemen who could draw well, made a sketch of the canoe with the thirteen men, and afterwards had it photographed and sent me a copy. We went on and landed at Te Ariki, the boatmen telling all their friends what we had seen. I then guided the visitors round to the White Terraces, where we had lunch before going on to the Pink Terraces.

"Here I saw the old chief Rangiheua of the Tuhoorangi tribe, and told him what we had seen; of the rising of the waters and the apparition of the war canoe with the thirteen men paddling. The old man was sitting at his door with his arms folded, and looking here and there, said, 'is that tika?' (true). I replied, 'Yes! every one in the boat, including the nine visitors, saw it.' 'Then,' said he, 'if that be true, there is going to be a big war, and many chiefs and people will be killed—aue aue' (alas!). He looked very sad and groaned. I suppose he was thinking he might be killed himself. I must tell you, lady, that this old chief perished afterwards in the eruption, for he went with his family to one of the islands on the lake for some warm curative baths, and whilst there the island was overwhelmed and every living thing destroyed.

"Six days later we went again to the Terraces,

(From a Photograph by Josiah Martin, Auckland.)

THE WHITE TERRACES.

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and I guided the visitors over as usual. Amongst the sights we visited a geyser called Whatapoho (which means a pain in the stomach) and it was sending out flames and smoke. This was on Tuesday, the 9th June. Then I noticed again on crossing the lake that the water was very high and covered the rushes. When I saw the chief Rangiheua, I said, 'What is this new thing?' the old man shook his head saying, 'We shall have a bad summer, Sophia, a bad summer,' and he shook his head again and again, muttering to himself the while.

"Well, I took my people up to the Pink Terraces; they wanted to bathe, but I said, 'No, no; it is too cold and too late, so we returned to Wairoa village. When I got back, I saw Mr. McCrae, proprietor of the Rotomahana Hotel. I said to him, 'I think this is my last day at Rotomahana Lake,' and I told him what we had seen. He said, 'What are you sa y in g. you old devil! What are you telling the people to frighten them? Next week you are going to take a party to Rotomahana for a fortnight.' 'Well, well, Mr. McCrae, never mind,' I replied.

"I then went home and got to bed. I had been on the lake for a month, guiding visitors round. I was tired, and all my clothes were dirty—for I had plenty of nice things that ladies had given me—so the next morning I got up at half-past four o'clock and went down to the Creek to do my washing. I was washing till 6 a.m., then I felt very cold, for it was a cold day, so I went up to my house, and my old man, Tiawihio, said, 'Are you ill? I will make you a cup of tea.' At half-past seven o'clock Mr.

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Bainbridge came up from McCrae's Hotel. I was lying on my bed, and he said, 'Sophia, what sort of a day is this?' I said, 'very bad and very cold.' He saw I was shivering, and went down to the Hotel and brought me up something hot. 'Drink it all,' he said, 'and cover yourself up with blankets.' My blankets though were all damp, as I had washed them, but I had some shawls, and I lay down again and my old man covered me up. I was lying there all day, and at 5 p.m. got up and began my sewing, for I was making a warm skirt to go to Rotomahana.

"I finished the work at 11.30 P.M. and went to bed. But I had only lain down about five minutes, when I felt the earthquake coming, heaving up the ground like waves.

"My old man went out and called to me: 'Etai (Sophia), water is running down the hills.' I asked,Etai 'Is it raining?' and he said, 'No.' Then I went out myself and heard it running down the hills. Then I went down to my two old aunties' whare, and asked them, 'What is this?' for the earth was shaking and heaving; but the two women said, ' Oh, it is all right; it will be finished soon'; for they were thinking it was the earthquake we used to have every year about this time; but it did not finish, and only got worse. So I said to the old aunties, ' Come, we will go up to my wharé,' for I was frightened; but they said 'No, no; it will soon be over.' But whilst they were speaking, the ground swayed up and down like waves, and the booming commenced like big guns going off and rolling like thunder.

"I was terrified, and went quickly down to get

SOPHIA'S WHARE, WAIROA.

(From a Photograph by R. Seldon, Rotorua.)

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STORY OF THE ERUPTION

the children who were at their brother Davey's house. I took them up to my wharé, and when I got there I found ten or twelve persons already in the house. At 12.30 p.m. the noise seemed to get louder, the thundering and booming with explosions, and a continuous vibrating sound like hm, hm, hm. It was as light as day—yes, lady, almost like the sun that is now shining on us. The light came from the crater. Then an appalling crash, and my old man shouted to me 'Haere-mai, e tai, kei te wera te as' (come and see, the world is going to be burnt).

"Lady, it was a grand and awful sight; Tarawera in flames rising high into the sky, the red hot stones and lava pouring down its sides, the beautiful lake glowing in the blaze of light, all bright like noonday, and the surrounding bush nearest the mountain in flames. A great wind too came rushing down the Wairoa valley towards the eruption, and so the splendid forest was blown down and quite destroyed. At 1.30 a.m. a big black cloud came over Tarawera, settling over it black as the darkest night; and then we sat in my wharé waiting, as we thought, for the last moment to come.

"We could hear the people come crawling along the little pathway, groping their way up the hill, for they could not see, and were only able to feel their way slowly along, for there was not a ray of light, only the blackest darkness, such as I had never seen before or since. Some of them came up with no clothes; and as I had plenty of things, we clothed them. At last there were sixty-two people in the wharé. Whilst we were sitting there, the red hot

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THE TARAWERA ERUPTION

stones and ashes began to fall, and smashed the window, and with the weight of these stones and ashes—for the ashes lay very thick —the raupo (reed) roof began to give way; so my old man and some of the younger ones got some wood and propped up the roof and walls, though, fortunately, the wharé was very strong and well built.

"The noise never ceased, and the terrible roaring was continuous. Then an earthquake, and Rotomahana, another part of the mountain, burst up between 2.30 and 3.30. All the people in the wliaré were terrified; they wanted to rush out, but I would not let them go, saying: 'No, you shall not go out you will be killed; you must stay here; at least we can all die together.'

"All through that awful night many were praying, each in his own way; one poor old man who had been sitting in the corner of the wharé wrapped in a blanket, was praying earnestly all night. He had only two prayers, which never varied, one Maori, and one learnt from the missionaries; these he repeated alternately the whole night through, and they seemed to give him great comfort. At 8 A.M., it got a little lighter, and at 9 o'clock we went outside, walking on the hot ashes and hot black flint stones. Then we got on to the Rotorua road, and passed by the Green Lake. Many were crying bitterly, for they had lost children and relations, killed by the falling stones, or crushed in the ruins of their houses, like young Mr. Bainbridge, who was killed by the falling of McCrae's Hotel. In looking back, many sad things come to my memory. I

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remember one poor woman whose two children were both killed whilst in her arms, which were clasped round them. I could give you many other such instances, but it is all so sad, I do not like to speak much of it.

"As we reached the Blue Lake we were met by our friends from Rotorua who came to look for us, thinking we were killed. They were delighted to see us safe, but many began to cry when they heard of those that they had lost, relations and friends.

"And so we arrived in safety, after a night of awful horror —a night so dreadful it will live in my heart as long as I have any memory. And that, dear lady, is all I have to tell of the great Tarawera Eruption of June 10th, 1886. Hei-koneira (Farewell!)"

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CHAPTER 11.

VISIT TO THE GREAT WAIMANGU GEYSER.*

Hearing that the Great Waimangu Geyser, discovered about sixteen months ago, and situated nine miles from Waiotapu, was well worth a visit I arranged with some friends to camp out there for the night, and, by spending the best part of two days on the spot, ensure a better chance of seeing the much-wished-for sight. The weather being fine, we left Falloonas Hotel, Waiotapu, at 10.30 A.M. in a light, four-wheeled carriage, with "John," our Maori driver, and a pair of active little ponies, a roll of rugs, and a box of provisions.

We drove nine miles, ascending gradually along a soft road, clay at times alternating with sand, and edged by bracken, fern, and manuka scrub, from which there was but little variation on the route. We skirted the beautiful and precipitous Rainbow Mountain, so called from its varied and brilliant

* An accurate water measurement of the geyser basin has lately been made by the Government guide who, with a companion, undertook the dangerous task of crossing the basin in a boat. They found the greatest depth to be 48 feet, the length 134 yards, and the width 30 yards.

THE GREAT WAIMANGU GEYSER.

(From a Photograph by R. Seldon, Rotorua.)

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colouring, every shade of red, pink, and yellow being visible on its sides, and after many sharp turns and constant windings of the road reached a little grassy plateau, from which we obtained an extensive view of the surrounding mountains, the geyser basin and the steaming valley. Just below the plateau, the little camp was visible, consisting of two or three tents belonging to the guide (Shepherd), and the caretaker, who welcomed us on our arrival. Then followed a rest and another look at the interesting bird's-eye view, before starting on foot for the geyser valley. The path sloped gradually downwards, and was composed of soft, dark, rather gritty earth, which was breaking away from the sides of the hills in water-worn channels, with here and there a stunted green bush or bunch of long, wiry ribbon-like grass (toi-toi) with its graceful plumed head, to break the monotony and grim desolation of the scene.

Soon we reached the narrow, sandy valley, which was covered many feet deep by the ashes of the Tarawera Eruption. A stream of boiling water, the overflow from the geyser and its lake, ran through the valley, and crossing over by stepping-stones we found ourselves on what was apparently a thin crust of crumbling, gritty subtance through which boiling water was coming up hissing and bubbling with great energy. The crust covered a large area, and from the peculiar, fizzling noise it makes is called the Devil's Frying Pan.

It seemed a terribly dangerous place, but things became more unpleasant as we advanced and heard the great blow-holes at the base of a beautiful and

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very precipitous rock called Gibraltar, from its resemblance to the great Mediterranean fortress. The surface of the rock was streaked with brilliant patches of red and yellow colouring, and from the apertures steam was rushing out with a fearful and unceasing roar, as from the valves of a dozen locomotives The noise was deafening, but one was able to approach quite close, as the wind was driving the steam away from us. The volume, force and velocity of these jets was terrific, and, the guide told us, never varied. It did indeed seem a pity that all this energy should be going to waste.

Leaving nature's workshop, we proceeded to a place nearer the geyser, and were enveloped by clouds of steam impregnated with sulphur. So dense indeed was the vapour that we could scarcely see where we were walking, and we found the heat unpleasantly scorching to our faces, whilst the ground was very hot, and the boiling steam with its horrid odour of acid and sulphur combined, seemed to penetrate one's clothes. As the position was becoming rather risky, at the suggestion of the guide, we beat a hasty retreat, recrossed the boiling stream, and going up the slope of the geyser basin looked into its shadowy depths.

The water had a milky-white appearance, and steam was coming up in dense volumes from the centre, and on the outer sides was rolling like clouds over the surface and round the edges. Leaving the geyser, we climbed up a large cliff on the opposite side facing the blow-holes, and from the top of this looked straight down into the basin of the geyser—a

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33

fine sight, the dreary desolation of the scene being most impressive. We waited there about an hour and a half, hoping the geyser would play, but as it gave no sign of activity, and was getting late, we started on the return journey, reaching the camp about sunset. As the geyser had not played since the previous day, and not to its greatest height for some days past, we thought there was every probability of a fine display. And in a few hours this proved to be the case, for at ten minutes past 10 p.m. we witnessed a magnificent spectacle. The atmosphere was perfectly clear, the night still and calm, not a sound or flutter in the air disturbed the quiet magic of the scene. Eight over the pool shone the full and brilliant moon. Nothing indicated the awful transformation that was soon to follow.

In a few minutes a low rumbling sound was heard coming as if from the very depths of the earth, it sounded so deep and far away. To the low rumble succeeded a hideous roar which ever steadily increased, growing in awful volume till the grand crescendo was reached, when with a rending crash a vast black column of mud, stones and boiling water hurled itself upwards, and, tearing the surface of the peaceful lake, shot five or six hundred feet into the air, the steam that enveloped it ascending about nine hundred or one thousand feet, far above the tops of the surrounding mountains. The wild chaos of deafening sounds is quite indescribable, for the awful roaring was accompanied by the grinding and crashing of the stones and boulders that were thrown up and collided with each other as they fell,

D

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The centre of the column looked quite black, but the edges were shrouded in billows of white feathery steam on which the moon shone with a pearly radiance making the scene as light as day, and a picture of unsurpassed grandeur and incomparable beauty.

Fortune still further favoured us, for the next morning, soon after eight o'clock, we saw another great outburst. Without any warning the geyser shot up with a terrific roar, and before attaining its greatest height, branched like a gigantic spray of black coral, and spreading through the soft white steam clouds, rose many hundred feet into the air.

According to an analysis made by Mr. Maclaurin, the Government analyst, the deposit from the crater, which is a greylsh-black colour, shows the following composition:—

Ferrous Sulphate . . . 13.0

Magnesium sulphate . . . . 3 .5

Free sulphur . . . . . .8

Sulphide of iron (iron pyrites) . . 50.5

Silica and silicates . . . . 32.2

100.0

This deposit, although mainly formed by substance contained in the water of the geyser, is in part composed of the surrounding country rock, and most of the silica and silicates shown in the analysis were from the last-named source, although a portion of the silica is no doubt derived from the water. Evidence of "country rock" is found in the presence of small pieces of black rock, and also of crystals of quartz, felspar and a little mica.

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THE GREAT WAIMANGU GEYSER

The great Waimangu Geyser undoubtedly ranks as one of the greatest wonders of the world, and to see it as I did in the solitude and mystery of night, or in the bright awakening of morning, cannot fail to awaken in the most callous and blasé traveller a real and genuinely great sensation of awe and astonishment.

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CHAPTER III.

MAORI CHARACTERISTICS.

The Maoris are a generous though somewhat improvident and unthrifty people. Few think of an old-world saying that "a stitch in time saves nine," and things go on till they drop to bits and have to be replaced, whether it be the roof of the house or the only coat. There is also an indolence and languor about the Maoris that recalls the East. I remember, when in India, having occasion to send a note requiring a prompt reply calling an outdoor servant. I told him to take it quickly. "Yes, Mem Sahib," he replied, with a salaam, and for the moment it seemed as if he was about to carry out his intention, but after a few quick steps the energy wore off and he fell into a leisurely saunter. A friend standing by laughingly remarked, "Just look at that man, going along as if to-morrow would do as well as to-day!" And so it is with the Maori; he is a goodhumoured, light-hearted, happy-go-lucky creature, a devotee of rest and sunshine, and steeped in an artistic love of brilliant colouring. But I am glad to say the Maori character is changing, and educa-

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tion is correcting, or greatly modifying, his natural defects.

As illustrating the superstitious beliefs of the Maori, let me tell you the legend of the Taniwha (demon) as I heard it from Sophia.

The Taniwha was a large log of wood that for long years had been in Tarawera Lake. To it the Maoris had attributed supernatural powers, and bestowed on it the name of Matarewhawha. They looked on it as a species of tricksy spirit endowed with a personality, and always spoke of it as "he." Sophia said Matarewhawha was not a good spirit, but still was not very bad, he seemed, though, of an active nature, and appeared able to move about to any part of the lake at his own pleasure. Sometimes he would float on the surface of the water with his branches stuck out, then the visitors used to put handkerchiefs on them as they passed in the boats, and these the Maoris used to take away afterwards. One day Sophia said they came up to Matarewhawha, and the boatmen tried to catch hold of him by seizing his branches, but to their great astonishment and discomfiture, he evaded them by sinking at once to the bottom of the lake, where he remained till danger was past. Matarewhawha would sometimes come to meet the boats, and at others go cruising round and round the water's edge, then sinking would suddenly disappear from the surface, and remain submerged. Never was he very long in any place, but seemed to lead a busy, movingabout life. One day Matarewhawha, was resting on the edge of the shore, and a pakeha, McGregor by

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name, was passing by, and seeing him so near, hauled him out, and to the great horror of the Maoris, burned him. From this ill-advised act they prophesied all kinds of evil, and afterwards declared that this sacrilege was the cause of the Tarawera Eruption.*

But, if superstitious, the Maoris have a keen sense of humour. Recalling one day the time of the eruption, Sophia mentioned that their Rotorua friends † brought out refreshments, which included a bottle of whiskey. "With us," said Sophia, "was an old woman, a cousin of my husband's; she had been praying hard all the night, and seeing the whiskey, cried out: 'Oh, Etai, give that bottle back to the people, think of God and other things,' pointing at the same time with her finger to the sky. Whereupon the woman behind me pulled my skirt violently, telling me at the same time not to listen to the old woman, but to take the whiskey. Well! lady, you know I had been blue ribbon myself for seventeen months. So to quiet the poor soul, I said; 'All right, you shall do the praying and we will drink the whiskey!'" The narration of the story seemed to amuse Sophia greatly, and she ran off in fits of laughter.

Another funny, though somewhat gruesome story

*In his report to the New Zealand Government Mr. Malfroy gives an interesting account of certain occurrences which took place some considerable time before the eruption. He particularly mentions earthquakes, renewed activity in geysers long dormant, increased energy at White Island, and a tidal wave on the East Coast (Bay of Plenty). † See p. 6.

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of an old Maori chief, who was fighting a great land case in court, indicates that humour is not confined to the feminine portion of the Maori population. The judge, who had been interrogating him through an interpreter, said, "Very good, Chief, that sounds all very well, but what, may I ask, became of the family of your enemy after his death?" A twinkle came into the old man's eye, as with a grave face he opened his enormous mouth, and raising his hand, pointed with a forefinger down his throat! The conclusion was obvious, and for a few moments, as may be easily imagined, consternation reigned in the court.

The Maori children are singularly quick and observant, to judge from a story told me by Maggie, the pretty Maori guide at Whakarewarewa of a little girl called Emily. This precocious mite had at various times seen certain high Government officials, and noticing they were all very stout, with prominent and somewhat imposing figures, her inquiring mind was greatly perplexed. At last she sought information from her elders by asking: "Why have Government got big drum in front? Have they all got a big drum?"

Another anecdote about little Emily shows that she was duly sensible of her creature comforts, while, like her white sisters, her personal appearance was not entirely a negative quantity. She is a methodical little person, and is employed to sweep and keep a small house in order. One day her employer, who was going to Auckland, said to Emily, "You have been a very good girl, and I should like to bring you

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something back with me, so take a pencil and write down what you would care to have." Emily made out her list as follows: (1) Some liver and bacon; (2) A piece of pink ribbon for my hair.

It will be readily imagined what an enjoyable time one can spend in the society of so charming a people. I was quite sorry when the time came for me to say good-bye to my Maori friends, and am only now consoled by the knowledge that we shall meet again before long.

FINIS.

LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, DUKE STREET, STAMFORD STREET, S.E., AND GREAT WINDMILL STREET, W.