Transactions Of The New Zealand Institute, 1891.

Transactions and Proceedings of the Royal Society of New Zealand, Volume 24, 1891, Unnumbered Page

Transactions Of The New Zealand Institute, 1891. I.—Zoology.

II—.Geology.

III.—Botany.

Explanation of Plate XXXVII. Fig. 1.Viscum clavatum, natural size. Fig. 2." " spike, magnified. Fig. 3." " young fruit, magnified.

Viscum Clavatum T.Kirk.

IV.—miscellaneous.

“Mr. Taylor White: Dear Sir,—I am sending under separate cover a rough sketch of dogskin mat. I find it a most difficult matter to hit off the colouring, and nothing short of seeing the mat itself would be satisfactory. The mat was bought by myself from Whakatau, a chief of the Taranaki Tribe. This man's age, I should think, would be from seventy-five to eighty years. The mat was made by his father, Rawahotane. The skins were obtained and cured by this man's father, or the grandfather of Whakatau; so that these dogs must have been killed at least eighty years ago. This would accord with Te Whiti's statement that the mat was at least eighty years old. Such being the case, these skins cannot possibly be other than those from the native dog, as explained in my first letter. “I am surprised that, Mr. Colenso takes up the line that the native dog was a small miserable cur. From conversations held with intelligent natives I gather that the old Maori dog was by no means a small animal, but a very fine animal indeed, and good-looking withal; but in one respect they differed greatly from our European dogs, and that was, they had no bark such as our dogs, and they never offered to bite any one, or, as the Maori explained, never got into a rage. “Some twenty years ago Captain Good, then living at Urenui, in this district, found the skeleton of a Maori dog which had evidently been buried with some show of respect. The bones were found in a small cave, and the remains of a mat—a few fragments only—in which the dog had evidently been wrapped, were lying around. This skeleton is either in the Wellington Museum or was sent to Copenhagen. Mr. Good's address is Oeo, near Opunake. He, no doubt, could tell you if the dog was a small or a large one. Some nine years ago, whilst surveying well up on the slopes of Mount

Egmont, a small pack (four or five) of wild dogs passed within 20 yards of me. One of them I was particularly struck with. It was jet-black, with long hair, prick ears, long tail, and to me looked as if it might have been a well-conditioned black fox—in fact, it might answer to skin No. 8 on the sketch. They were following up a cow with a young calf at foot. They did not bark, but made a most uncanny noise—a strange sort of howl. Often we have been awakened in camp by this strangely human—or unhuman—sound, and have turned out to answer, as we though, the ‘c ooee’ of some unfortunate lost in the bush; but as we listened more attentively we found that it was the cry of the wild dogs. The camp dogs always got into a restless, uneasy state whenever they heard this sound.—Yours, &c., ” W. H. Skinner.” In a previous letter:— “The mat was purchased by myself at Parihaka in June, 1889. The fact of my having purchased the mat caused quite a small sensation at Parihaka, and a friend of mine, being in the village the following day, overheard Te Whiti and several of the older men discussing the affair and the history of the mat. Te Whiti remarked that it was at least eighty years old, and was the only one to his knowledge anywhere in the district. In conversation with a native of the same hapu he gives its age as ninety or a hundred years, proving beyond doubt in my mind that they are genuine old dogskins. This part of New Zealand—Cape Egmont—was quite unvisited by the very early whalers and traders up to about the years 1825 to 1830, and only then very occasionally, so there can by no possibility be any chance of these skins being crossed with the European dog; and I have yet to learn that the very early traders brought dogs with them as an article of trade. Wha-katau's father, Kiore, was the ariki of his tribe, and Wha-katau's elder brother, Paora Kukutae, led the tribe at the battle of Waireka, in March, 1860, where he was killed; so they are a family of rank in these parts. “Description of dogskin mat Hurukuri (history as given by Whauhoka: Rawahotana tamaiti, ko Whakatau, potiki no Rawaho te Hurukuri):— “No. 1.—Dark brown on back, shading off to brown underneath and on head: prick ears: length, 3ft; 6in.; width, 1ft. 3in.: hair about¾in. to 1in. in length; lenger, of course, on tail: the tail at present is stumpy, but I am inclined to think it has been trimmed back to this. “No. 2 is a most difficult one to describe: A light tan underneath; a darker shade of tan, freely intermixed with black, along back and top sides; very light tan under-side hams and under tail (this is the skin of a very large dog):

hair close and stiff: the ears have been trimmed, so cannot say if prick or not; inclined to think they were originally prick: long tail, with short hair: length, 3ft. 8in. by 1ft. 6in. “No. 3.—Black: long soft hair: long tail, with long hair (I have sometimes seen this long black hair in the decorations used for the taiaha spears): prick ears: length, 2ft. 10in. by 10in. “No. 4.—Slut: creamy white: short, stumpy tail: prick ears: hair about 1in. long, a little longer on hind-quarters: bare underneath the loins: smallest skin in the mat—length, 2ft. 7in. by 9in. “No. 5.—Black: long soft hair: long tail: prick ears: length, … by 1ft. 3in. “No. 6.—White: long hair, especially on tail (this is the kind of dog from which the long white hair used in decorating spears, &c., was obtained): length, 2ft. 8in. by 1ft. “No. 7.—Tawny-yellow: long shaggy hair: very small prick ears: narrow head: much the colour and appearance of Australian dingo: length, 3ft. by 1ft. “No. 8.—All black, except, under tail, a light-tan spot: long soft hair: long tail: large prick ears: length, 3ft. 6in. by 1ft. “Nos. 5 and 8 are slightly freckled with white hairs. “The skins have been trimmed slightly, I think—so as to make them of one width with the skin of the head. I do not find any spots or marks of any kind whatever over the eyes, or difference of colours on the cheeks. In three or four of the skins the tails have been slit into three or four strip—not pieces sewn on, but the original tail cut into strips to make it look more ornamental. The whole of the under-portion is open to the view, and is covered with tags of dogskin with the hair attached: these are there purely as an ornament, in the same way as you see the black tags or threads attached to certain kinds of flax mats. The hairy side of the mat was worn next the skin; the under-side, with tags attached, came on the outside when in use. The skins are sewn together with thin lashings or laces of dog's hide, not a scrap of flax in any shape or form coming into the mat. “The history, by Whauhoka, is simply the names of, first, his uncle, from whom I bought the mat; then his grandfather, who made the mat. He does not give the name of his great-grandfather, by whom the skins were in part collected and cured. “W. H. Skinner.” Mr. Tregear gives me the following description of a stuffed specimen in the Wellington Museum: “I should think it must be a genuine kuri, for it is like no European dog that I ever saw. A low long-bodied dog, prick-eared, sharp-snouted,

of a dirty white in colour. A very ugly brute, but then some of his ugliness may be put down to bad stuffing. I think that the really reliable evidence as to the hair of the uncrossed Maori dog must be sought in the British Museum, or in some such place, containing cloaks, &c., sent Home a hundred years ago.”*I have inquired of a friend on the staff at the British Museum about dogskins taken Home by Captain Cook: he says, “Have gone into the matter carefully, and find that no such skins or mats are in the Museum.”—T. W. Mr. A. Hamilton, formerly of Napier, tells me that he took a well-preserved skull of a dog from a Maori kitchen-midden near Shag Point or River, and that it was “about the size of that of an ordinary sheep-dog.” This he for warded to the Christchurch Museum; but I have been unable to ascertain what was the result of a scientific examination of it. I will now give the information gained as answers to my letter in the Otago Witness:— Mr. Charles Goodall, Lora Valley, Hokonui, writes, “In the sixties the native dog was common enough in Southland, more so in the lake districts and the Umbrellas close to Switzer's Diggings. About 1861 I and mate were within five chains of four in a pack. These dogs were all white, and about the size of a moderate-sized colley dog, with, as near as I could tell, bushy curved tails. Apart from this, a shepherd there named Sutherland killed many, and I had seen one which he killed, and handled it. This dog was white, marked with beautiful light orange-yellow spots over eyes, feet, and nose, with bushy tail. As near as I remember, this dog's hair was smooth, but close, with prick or straight ears. At that time I thought it was the most beautiful dog I had ever seen. In size and shape it was a counterpart of a fair-sized colley. And I have heard of this dog being domesticated, but it always seemed inclined to go away. I may also state that I have heard them howling very often, but never heard them bark—in fact, I do not think they could bark. On the other hand, while at Waikawa, in the sixties, I have seen scores of the so-called wild dog, and killed some, as the place was full of them and wild pigs. But these were dogs, I think, that had got away from the whalers or Maoris, as there were all sorts among them. These dogs used to destroy the sheep wholesale, and many the night have I been camped out with kangaroo-dogs and gun trying to save the sheep from their rapacity. I would conclude by saying that I see no reason why the native Maori dog should not be in existence yet, in some of the back mountain-ranges.” Mr. Richard Norman, Albert Town, writes, “Mr. Robert

Kidd, of Hawea, landed at the Bay of Islands fifty-seven years ago, and resided there a number of years, and started in life with Sir Donald McLean, and became in time a very expert Maori linguist. He tells me that the Maoris were never dog-fanciers; that there were a few dogs in every pa, which were of every colour and size, but the head, ears, eyes, and tail were very similar to those of foxes.” Mr. C. Goodall again writes, “I was in the Wairarapa in 1856 or 1857, when Mr. Kidd was living there. I had been in several Maori pas, and I thought the Maoris were very fond of their canine friends. From the Wairarapa I went to Rangitikei, and visited many pas, and found those swarming with cur-dogs of all kinds; but we have nothing to do with those dogs, as I found the same kind running wild down here. I think I have described the Maori or native dog which was to be found in the mountains thirty years ago, and I have not the slightest hesitation in stating that they were quite distinct from any other breed I ever saw.” “Digger,” Preservation Inlet, writes, “Referring to the native wild dogs so well described by C.G.,‘Hokonui, I believe I have some proof that they still exist. About the beginning of last August I saw a dog answering to the description given, as well as could be judged at a distance of 300 yards. It appeared about the size of a colley, but somewhat lanky; was all white excepting the lower part of the shoulder and upper part of the hind legs. These parts were covered with black or brown patches. When seen it was on the seashore some few miles from Puysegur Point lighthouse. The dog came out of a cave, and disappeared in the bush. No dog of the same description was, so far as I can discover, ever seen in these parts before. The country for many miles is covered with thick bush, and there is plenty of good living for dogs, in the shape of birds—kakapos, kiwis, penguins, &c. Would your correspondent, ‘C.G.,’ kindly state whether the native dogs are dangerous? Would they attack a person without provocation; or, if captured, would their skins be valuable—that is, to stuff?” “C.G.,” Hokonui, writes in answer to “Digger,” Preservation Inlet, “I may say that I think this is the same breed of dogs described in a former letter. ‘Digger’ need not be afraid of their attacking him, or anybody else. As to the value of the skin, if ‘Digger’ could capture one of these dogs and preserve skin, head, teeth, and tail, they would be valuable to a naturalist, as in all probability it would decide this knotty question. I would remind ‘Digger’ that to capture one of these animals he would have to go about his work very cautiously, and mark which way the wind is blowing, as their sense of smell is very keen.”

“J.B.”writes, “On the 27th November, 1859, I came across two of these dogs, and killed one, a slut; and she was carrying seven pups. The dog escaped into the bush. These two were as large as any colley I ever saw. They were both cream-colour, the dog slightly darker and larger than the slut; but there was not a spot on either of them. In regard to their not being sheep-worriers in the true sense of the word, I think ‘C.G.’ is right, as they were several times among my flock before I killed the one, but not a sheep was killed outright on any occasion, though I had thirteen ewes and one lamb bitten one night, only four of them recovering. When the piece was taken clean out by the sheep got better; but otherwise the place festered time after time until the sheep pined away and died. As to their being domesticated, the first of the kind I ever saw was in the Town of Leicester, in the Midland Counties of England, about the year 1854 or 1855, accompanying two chiefs who were touring the, Home-country at that time; and the dog they had with them was exactly like the one I killed in the Umbrella Mountains in 1859. I quite agree with ‘C.G.’ as to their being a distinct breed.” “C.G.” writes again, “I have only seen five of the native dogs. I do not think they were sheep-worriers. I was told by a shepherd about the time the rush to the Lake Diggings took place that this dog existed on Mr. Trotter's run. Not only this, but my informant stated that he had a young pup, which he tried to domesticate, but failed, as it got away. I have seen the Australian dingo, and this Maori dog is much like him, only not nearly so large. The dingo has a lot of wolf about his head, which the native dog has not. I may here state that I have seen a cross of the Australian dingo and the colley working sheep beautifully on the Blue Mountains, close to the Pomahaka, years ago.” I can also give evidence on the capabilities of the half-bred dingo. A large reddish dog, with long hair and bushy tail, said to be a half-bred dingo by his owner, a shepherd to Mr. Joseph Pearson, then of View Hill, Oxford, Canterbury, was used as a sheep-dog. You will remember in a former paper I spoke of little long-haired white dogs, which were often carried long distances by the Maori women when travelling on horseback. In a letter on various subjects, published in the Hawke's Bay Herald a few months back, Mr. H. H. Murdoch, of Hastings, says, “We have dogs of many breeds, and of no breed at all, from the fluffy little white nondescript which nestles in the bosom of the dusky wahine to the huge St. Bernard's,” &c. Here is an independent observer who also has taken notice of these queer little dogs, which I think are remains of an old breed of Maori

toy-dogs. There is no reason why the Maori should not have possessed dogs of different breeds, and of various shape and size. Their known fondness for pets, even of the bird kind, would indicate a probability of their controlling various breeds. Captain Good sends me the following letter, dated Oeo, 1st May, 1891:— “Dear Sir,—I have much pleasure in replying to your letter of the 17th ultimo, and in giving such information as I possess relative to the discovery of the skeleton of a dog some twenty years ago in the face of a cliff not far from the mouth of the Urenui River. The discovery was made by my sons, who were then small boys. Seeing some bones projecting from the face of the cliff, they casually mentioned the circumstance on their return home. “Mr. Rowan, late 43rd Regiment, who was then on a visit at my house, and who took an especial interest in matters of the kind, went at once to the spot and dug the bones out. A skeleton of a dog was found, not in a cave, but in the hollow trunk of a tree, together with portions of coarse matting. The most curious thing in connection with the finding of this skeleton of a dog is, as to how it got there. This you will understand when I describe to you the geological formation of the coast-line near Urenui. The lower stratum is papa rock, or blue lias, evidently at one time submerged, from the number of shells found in this formation; upon this a stratum, 3ft. to 4ft., of gravel and quartz, water-worn; above this light-red porous soil for about 8ft.; upon this a foot or more of vegetable mould. Height from the sea at high water, from 20ft. to 30ft. “The bones were found on the papa rock, next the water-worn gravel, and about 12ft. from the top of the cliff. The bones became exposed by the falling-away of the cliff, caused by the action of the weather and by the washing of sea-spray in tempestuous weather. This coast is continually falling away. In 1865 an old Maori told me that a pa which once stood on the south headland of Urenui River had been washed away. In all probability this skeleton of a dog had lain hidden for centuries—long before the Southern Ocean had been visited by Europeans—and goes to prove that the people who then occupied New Zealand were possessed of dogs—domesticated dogs, beyond all doubt, as plaited matting was found with the skeleton. “As I said befor, how did the bones get where they were found? I have a theory, which may be taken for what it is worth, which is this: In former times a Maori would for some reason or other bury a dog in a hollow tree, or at the foot of a tree—a ceremony to make the tree, or the land on which it

stood, tapu or sacred. It is possible that the tree, being on the banks of a river, became undermined, and, falling into the water, was carried to sea and thrown on a boulder-bank; afterwards came the upheaval—the cliffs of papa rock being at one time the bed of the ocean. The upper strata can only be accounted for by volcanic agency. The natives have a tradition of both Tongariro and Taranaki being active. “With respect to Mr. Colenso's theory of the native dog, I think he must be in error. I have been in New Zealand since 1845, and knew, or did know, every breed of dog in England, and owned at various times different varieties. The terrier, hound, pointer, have ears lying flat with the face. The greyhound and sheep-dog have ears with the front slightly raised, but the tips falling, not pricked or standing upwards. Now, the dogs I saw with the natives in 1845 could not have been produced by any English breed of dog. They were about the height of an English terrier, rather long, tail drooping, colour whitish-yellow inclining to brown on the back, coat long and straight, nose pointed, and prick-eared. I recollect being so struck at their appearance that I inquired what they were used for, and was told that they hunted the kiwi and weka, and there skins were used for making mats. I saw some years ago a native wearing a dogskin mat of a whitish colour, and another native with a mat made from dogs of different colours, the mat being striped white-and-brown. “The sheep-dog could not have been introduced into New Zealand many years, certainly not a hundred. But, for argument's sake, the particulars of breed would not die out in a hundred years; it would show itself in its markings and in the general structure of the animal. Could the Maoris have brought the dog with them from Mangaia or Rarotonga? The Rev. W. W. Gill, B. A., in his book on ‘Savage Life in Polynesia,’ speaks of two chiefs, Tawai and Tekarakau, being expelled from Mangaia some two hundred and fifty years ago, but does not state that they took dogs with them. They set sail from Mangaia in two large double canoes. These canoes arrived safely at New Zealand. Old Maoris give names of other canoes which came to New Zealand at a much earlier period, thus accounting for the numbers of people seen by Captain Cook in 1777. “The natives on this coast have no other name for dog but ‘kuri,’ and before the arrival of the horse this term was not used to denote any other animal. A horse is now sometimes called ‘kuri,’ a rat ‘kiore,’and a pig ‘poaka,’ from the English ‘pork.’ Waka or vaka, at Mangaia, Rarotonga, and Samoa, means simply a canoe. Whaka is a prefix to a verb. Kau and kaukau, to swim. Kahorekau is a superlative negative, and korakau sometimes spoken in praise and sometimes in derision

of person or thing, but hardly translatable. But kau in any sense cannot have the remotest relation to an ox or a cow. Before their introduction by Europeans cattle were not known to the natives of New Zealand. A fully-tattooed Maori will have the whole face covered from forehead to chin with tracings or lines forming distinct patterns, each pattern having a name. “Taikomoko, half-brother to Te Whiti, a man about sixty years of age, knows well the native dog, and says they were brought to New Zealand by the Maoris from the islands. He says they were quite distinct from the present wild dog in this Island, which is the European dog gone wild. The real native dog is of a whitish or light colour, small, with long straight hair. Their skins were formerly used for making mats, and the hair in ornamenting the sharp end of the taiaha. He says the native dog has been extinct on this coast since 1860, but yet may be found on the upper Waitara, Ngatimaru country, or at the remote settlements between Mokau and Kauhi. “The skull of the dog found in the cliff was sent to Dr. Hector, who pronounced it the skull of a Maori dog.—Yours truly, ”Thomas Good.” Captain Good is in error in respect to the ears of terriers, which are much similar to those of the sheep-dog; but, owing to the custom of trimming, the dog is seldom seen with ears in their natural form. All small puppies of any breed have drooping ears flat to the head. In the above letter Captain Good describes a small dog or breed of dogs. But, supposing you see a man accompanied by terriers, that is no proof that all dogs are terriers; and, as before pointed out, Maori tradition describes breeds of dogs under different names. For instance, Sir George Grey tells the following story in “Polynesian Mythology:”— “Houmaitawhiti, an ancestral hero of the Maori, who resided at Hawaiki, had a dog named Potaka-tawhiti. This dog offended the high-priest Uenuku, and was killed by Uenuku and Toi-te-hautahi. This act was revenged by Tamatekapua and Whakaturia, and a great war began in Hawaiki, which was the cause of the great migration of the Maoris to New Zealand.” “A famous native dog or breed of dogs, called mohorangi, were brought from Hawaiki in the canoe Mangarara by Tara-whata, and put on the island of Whanga-o-keno. Some time afterwards this dog or one of them was seen by Ponuiahine, the daughter of Kaiawa; but she, not having gone through the proper religious ceremonies, and daring to look with unveiled eyes upon the sacred dog, was turned into a grasshopper.” (J. White's “Ancient History of the Maori.”)

It is notable that moho is the name for dog in Marque-san. Mr. Charles Herbert tells me that the Maoris at Wainui, near Cape Turnagain, on the East Coast, had no individual names for their dogs formerly, but gave a general call of “Moi, moi.” This surprised me, as, some ten years ago, when a number of Taupo Maoris were shearing my sheep, I one day called “Moi moi,” to one of their dogs, and this caused a laugh among the Maoris. On asking for an explanation of their merriment the answer was that it was ridiculous to call “Dog, dog.” But these Maoris had adopted most of the customs of the pakeha. Waero is the tail of a dog, also a mat ornamented with dogs' tails. It is remarkable that the dogs' tails in Mr. Skinner's mat are some of them short, as if from dogs naturally having bobtails. It is possible such may be the case, for the Maori would preserve the dog's tail for the sake of the growth of hair of an extra length;and I feel convinced by further study of European languages that in olden times the European dog was frequently born with a short tail. I will have another trial to prove this:”Coot (Celtic) (Middle English, cote, coote), a water-fowl: Anglo-Saxon, cyta, a kind of bird: Dutch, koet, a coot (probably Celtic): Welsh, cwtiar, a coot (literally a bobtailed hen, from cwta, short, bobtailed; and iar, a hen); cwtiad, cwtyn, a plover: Gaelic, cut, a bobtail: Welsh, cwtau, to shorten, dock = cut (Celtic): Middle English, cutten, a weak verb: Welsh, cwtau, to shorten, to dock. Compare Welsh, cwtws, a lot with Middle English cut, a lot:so, also, Gaelic, cutaich, to shorten, cut short—chief form, Welsh, cwt, a tail;Gaelic and Irish, cut, a short tail; Cornish, cut, short.”—(Skeat.) Here is fair evidence that the dog was sometimes born with a tail which looked as if cut or shortened. The derivation of the word “to cut “I consider is Latin, cos, cotis, a flintstone; cautes, cautis, a rough pointed rock—which were used by the savage or primitive man to cut and chop with in the place of knife or axe. Or perhaps a nearer word for flint might be found in one of the cognate languages. Mr. A. R. Wallace gives twenty words as different names for dog used by the natives of the Malay Archipelago, which are—a'ujing, asu, muntoa, kápuna, ungu, assu, aso, kaso, iyór, gáso, asúa, a'su, wasu, yás, nawang, kafúna, afúna, how, yes, yem. Some of these names are probably phonetic, for among the various names for cat are—miaò, tusa, ngeäu, miau, nāo, mau, maōw, mar, shika, &c. These names are decidedly derived from the call of the animal. As Maori names for the (barking or) howling of the kuri, Mr. Tregear gives,” Tewe to yelp as a dog. Ao, the bark of a dog: ‘Katahi ka whakao mai,

“Ao! ao! ao! ao! a-ao-o!” ' (‘Polynesian Mythology,’ by Sir G. Grey). Cf. au, to bark as a dog; Tahitian, aoa, to bark or howl; Hawaiian, aoa, to howl as a dog, to wail for grief for lost friends.” These words are evident imitations of a dog howling or having a tangi, and it is probably a misnomer to use the translation “to bark.” Myself and correspondents are agreed that the native dog did not bark, and none of the writers were previously aware of my own experience with the native wild dog of the South Island. Darwin gives some curious instances on this point. Certain dogs kept at the Zoological Gardens, in England which in their former state did not bark, afterwards learnt to bark from hearing dogs do so which were kept in adjoining enclosures. So it is quite possible for us now to find that the true Maoridog has also learnt to bark from hearing his European relatives do so. So, in searching for the Maori dog, this should be borne in mind. On the other hand, Darwin mentions certain European dogs left or escaped on some island, and which were accustomed to feed on the shellfish along the sea-shore at low-water. The descendants of these dogs had entirely lost the faculty of barking. As New Zealand was formerly only stocked with birds and rats, which were an easy prey to the kuri, barking or baying would be of no service to the dog, and would be lost from disuse. That is with the exception of the moa; and there seems to be no Maori tradition mentioning the use of the dog in catching this bird. It would be interesting to know whether the original dingo of Australia was accustomed to bark, for probably these dogs would be used to bring the emu to bay. I rather fancy they did not bark, but I have no authority to refer to. It is a great pity that travellers in a new country take so little notice of ordinary or domestic animals, which are the first to die out or be modified by interbreeding with their imported relations; with the result that those who come after them addle their brains in a difficult search after relics of the past. The Maoris of the present day are not reliable sources for information on the kuri. Note that after New Zealand had been occupied by Europeans for fifty years or more the kiore, or native rat (Mus maorium), which was said all that time to be extinct, is now proved to exist both in the North and South Islands of New Zealand, and possibly two distinct species, as is the case with many of the birds of the two Islands. This is a reddish-grey rat, touched with black hairs. Then, in the North Island we also have the Polynesian black rat (Mus rattus). Of these the Maori and early settlers took no account. The fact is, a rat is just a rat, and nothing more, to the casual observer. And with the supposed extinct kuri it is probably the same. Having now proved beyond doubt that

we have the original rat living side by side with the imported Norway rat (Mus decumanus), there is every encouragement to observe and search diligently in expectation of finding in a supposed Maori cur a pure descendant of the original kuri. Some Maoris told me the native name for the land known as Glenshee was Kuripaka, the home or place of the brown dog. It is difficult, unless a good Maori scholar, to be certain in matters of conversation through an inexpert interpreter. My reason for doubting is this: Mr. Tregear gives kiripaka, a flint; and kirikiri, pebble-stones, gravel. Now, although at Glenshee there is no flint or obsidian, still a remarkable outcrop or wall of conglomerate, composed of water-worn stones, few of which reach the size of a man's fist, firmly cemented together and superimposed on the papa rock, is a notable feature of the country, and might be referred to by the Maoris. They themselves, speaking only from tradition, might slightly confuse the name. But I prefer to take it as evidence that a brown or reddish-brown dog did at one time live there. The Maori tried to explain the colour by referring to the horse; but whether a chestnut, a brown or a bay horse was meant I could not decide. I might state that the wild dogs seen by myself with the exception of one, were remarkably short in the hair—more so even than a cat, as you will see from the use a dogskin was put to. I had a close-fitting tubular case made from it for my telescope, hair outwards, and a cap of the same to slip over the open end of the tube-formed case. Circular pieces of dogskin, with the hair outward, were compactly sewn into either end of the case, and when made the hide was stiff as leather, and the hair short and close, never rumpling or roughing up, though in constant use. This, if you consider it, gives proof of the short and close character of the hair, and is remarkable in dogs living exposed to all weathers in an alpine region. Few people are aware that the original feral ancestors, or, rather, the descendants of the primeval dogs from whom our domestic dogs are derived, still live in a wild state in India, the scientific name for them being Cuon rutilans, the meaning of which is, a dog of a reddish colour, inclining to golden-yellow. From their being every one of the same type and-colour there is evidence that they have been long feral, and probably they are the exact counterpart of the first dogs existing. It is notable that they have no white tip to the tail, which is a common feature with the domestic dog. The following is a good description of the native dog of India, given by a correspondent under the signature “Shikari,” in Land and Water: “The general colour is a bright rusty

red or rufous fawn paler beneath; tail moderately brushed, reaching to the heels, usually tipped with blackish; limbs strong; body lengthened; head and body 32in. to 33in., tail about 16in.; height, 17in. to 20in. They generally hunt in packs of from five to twenty, and appear to run by scent as well as sight, and are nearly mute, except an occasional low whimper. Such are their speed, strength, and persevering endurance, that they are formidable enemies to all the deer tribe, and they will run down and kill even such large animals as the sambur (Rusa aristotelis) and nilghau (Portax pictus), their usual mode of attack being snapping and tearing at their victims' belly and flanks till they tear them open and the entrails protrude. They exhibit but little fear of man, and many are the instances recorded of their calmly sitting down and staring at the sportsman who has met them. I have personally several times come across these jungle poachers, but never bagged one, as with one exception I did not fire at them for fear of disturbing the jungle. I need not have had such scruples, however for I invariably found the jungle that harboured them was deserted by all nobler game. I was once a spectator of their mode of hunting. I was out one time on a sporting trip during very hot weather in Berar, and during a morning stroll my attention was attracted by a low whimper. Looking in the direction from which the sound emanated, I saw a little four-horned antelope (Tetraceros quadricornis) defending itself against two wild dogs. The little antelope would make a short run and then pull up facing its assailants, one of whom would make a snapping feint at its front whilst the other made snatches at the antelope's flanks and quarters from the rear. The little antelope displayed wonderful agility, bounding round and round and evading its tormentors. This went on for some little time, till I put an end to the entertainment by firing at one of the dogs—which, alas! I missed. The two dogs looked towards me and then trotted sulkily off, whilst the antelope disappeared in the opposite direction. A friend of mine who was with me shot two of these wild dogs a few days later, and so I had an opportunity of examining them closely; and very handsome brutes they were. We had reliable news of tigers in this bit of jungle, but never came across them, which strengthened me in my belief that Cuon rutilans had something to say to their absence.” A writer in the South of India Observer a few years ago gave a graphic description of a sight witnessed by a friend of his in the Wynaad jungle. He says, “My friend was passing through the jungle in the Wynaad when he heard close to him a curious snapping noise. He fancied it was parrakeets or some such birds having a row amongst themselves, but on

taking a few steps forward, to his no small astonishment he found himself in the presence of a tiger surrounded by a pack of wild dogs snapping and snarling at him, but at the same time keeping well, but of reach of the terrible fore-paw. The tiger was lashing his tail from side to side and showing great excitement, or, as I feel inclined to put it, ‘funk.’ He was standing with his back to the new arrival, and consequently did not see him; but, as he was no more than 30 yards distant, my friend wisely decided on beating a retreat, shortly returning, however, with some of his friends, when they found the tiger had disappeared, but the pack of wild dogs were feasting on a sambur fresh-killed by the tiger. There was no mistake about this, for the marks of the tiger's teeth were distinctly visible in the throat of the deer. Ten dogs were counted, but there might have been, and probably were, more. This is certainly a proof that wild dogs will attack a tiger, not for the purpose of killing him, but to drive him away from his prey. Though the wild dog does not throw his tongue when in chase, beyond giving a low tremulous whimper, yet he will bark and howl at night, as most sportsmen who have shikared in the East know full well. By no means a shy animal, he is at times even bold and saucy in his demeanour. As a dog he is decidedly handsome, and as good-looking as the best colley but from a sportsman's point of view he is a decided scourge, and we may rest assured that, looked at even from the most favourable point of view, he is beyond doubt a most destructive poacher, and does infinite harm not only by the numbers of game he kills, but by the numbers he scares away. My parting advice, therefore, to all sportsmen is to slay Cuon rutilans without compunction wherever they may meet him, and by any means, whenever they have the chance.” You will notice that this writer also makes comparison with the shepherd's dog, although he must have been more conversant with the forms and habits of sporting dogs. The scientific name for the domestic dog is Canis latrans, or the barking dog, barking being its distinctive feature as compared with other Canidæ—the wild dog, wolf, jackal, fox, &c.