Art. XLV.—The Grasses of Tutira.

Transactions and Proceedings of the Royal Society of New Zealand, Volume 40, 1907, Page 506

Art. XLV.—The Grasses of Tutira. By H. Guthrie-Smith. [Read before the Hawke's Bay Philosophical Society, 3rd September, 1907.] Tutira lies in the northern part of Hawke's Bay, about midway between Napier and Mohaka, and contains limestone of the varieties known to geologists as “Hawke's Bay limestone” and “Maungahararu limestone,” the former bounding the eastern edge of the run, and containing many distinct and unbroken shells; the latter the western, and exposing only crushed fragments. Between these ranges are conglomerate and sandstone formations; papa crops out in a few places. Slips are very numerous on the steep country, and the whole surface has been heavily sprinkled with wind-borne pumice-grit.

For the purposes of this paper, I should say that the Tutira Run includes part of the Maungahararu Education Reserve, part of the Heru-o-turea Block, part of Waitara, &c. About 300 ft. above sea-level on its eastern edge, it rises to over 3,200 ft. on the west. There are soils of every quality, from small alluvial flats and papa outcrops to wretched low valleys stretching north and south between barren ridges of sandstone, and areas of black humus superposed on pumice-grit. Grasses, therefore, have the choice of many varieties of soil in this block of land. The run came into my possession in 1882, but before that date a certain amount of work had been done—fires had been run through large tracts of fern, some fencing had been erected, and a very small proportion of the country grassed. The remainder was almost wholly in fern, tutu, or koromiko. Where there was bush it was unfelled, and where there was swamp it was undrained. I may say, therefore, that I have seen the run being grassed, or grassing itself, for the last twenty-five years, and have noted practically its whole development from the old indigenous herbage. For over a quarter of a century opportunities have been afforded of watching the arrival of each grass, its subsequent spread, or in some cases its decline. The long struggle between the native and alien species still continues, but is inclining slowly though surely to the former. Sufficient time has now elapsed to prove which are the best of these native grasses, and which, also, are the aliens most likely to survive—survive, that is, in fair competition, and where the soil cannot be turned over by the plough. For such reasons my paper may be of interest to those who have perhaps in other districts watched similar processes. It must, however, be borne in mind that the notes and observations here recorded are purely local, and probably would not apply, or, at any rate, would not apply with equal force, to the better soils and drier climate of southern Hawke's Bay. Looking back over this quarter of a century, the feature that stands out first and foremost, and most prominently, is the enormously lessened fertility of to-day's surface soil as compared with that of the early eighties. The proofs of this are the visibly thinner proportion of rye-grass and the almost complete disappearance of white-clover, the decrease in carrying-capacity, the lessened germinating-power of grass-seed (surface-sown), the later “spring” in the grass, the later lambings, and possibly too the pretty general change throughout Hawke's Bay from Lincoln to Romney Marsh, Corriedales, and other hardier breeds. Watching a paddock year by year and month by month is

like watching the face of a constant companion—the daily difference is imperceptible, yet revert to any day ten or twenty years back and the alteration is at once marked and striking. So it is with all processes of nature; and the condition of one particular paddock at Tutira is marked to me specially by two events—the one in 1882, the other in 1884. On the former date Vermont merino rams were bought from an Otago stuflock. A paddock was “spelled,” or shut up for them, and into it they were turned on arrival. They throve very badly, although we had confidently reckoned on their improvement owing to the fine sward of rye-grass. The year 1884 was one of those dry seasons during which less than 20 in. of rain fell during the year in parts of Hawke's Bay, and when even the Tutira hillsides began to dry up. We were trying everywhere to take advantage of this dry weather, yet no attempt even was made to burn this part of the run, owing to the mat of white-clover. To-day in this same paddock rye-grass is almost altogether absent and white-clover is almost gone; they make a very miserable show when compared with the exuberant growth of over twenty years ago. Now the turf consists of Danthonia pilosa, D. semiannularis, Microlæna stipoides, ratstail, Poa pratensis, Bromus arvensis, Festuca myuros, Aira caryophylla, a proportion of fog and cocksfoot, a patch or two of fiorin, stunted trefoil and Trifolium arvense, sorrel and the smaller plants that now form a considerable proportion of to-day's sward, members of the geranium family, Cotula asiatica, oxalis, &c. These are particular instances of one paddock; other evidence will cover the whole run—the evidence of the bees. In the eighties and early nineties every hollow tree and every crannied rock on Tutira contained a colony of bees, and in the eighties more especially there were scores of swarms hanging in low manuka and tutu bushes. The country was then actually grey with the heads of white-clover, and the bees prospered accordingly. At this present date all the rocks are empty of bees, and though clover is not rye-grass, yet its disappearance (comparatively speaking) will show the great alteration in the constituénts of the surface soil, and make it easy to understand how rye-grass too should have so largely disappeared. Evidence even more convincing is the smaller amount of stock carried. Referring to the old station diaries, I find that when only about 1,500 acres of ground had been sown seven thousand sheep passed through the shed. Of these, between two and three thousand survived, rather than lived, on the conglomerate or sandstone ranges. There they just managed to exist on tutu, fern-root exposed in wild-pig rootings, and patches of native grass—grass that has since been smothered

in fern and manuka, but which twenty-five years ago was probably the last vestige of the herbage that succeeded the ancient totara forest which at one time covered this region. The 1,500 acres of artificially sown grass would seem, therefore, to have carried the balance of four thousand five hundred or more. That it did so I am convinced, for not only were the sheep a smaller breed, but, as there was almost no fencing, only the most fertile, most sweet, and most warm portions of the run were worked by stock. These few spots of really good land were the old Native clearings and gardens, the long narrow strips immediately beneath the limestone outcrop (the ancient ocean-floor), sheep-camps, papa slips, and the northern and western faces of the best hills. During the succeeding years up to the present date two synchronous processes have been going on, the one the “breaking in” and surface-sowing of new blocks, the other the deterioration of the blocks already sown. For many seasons the run has passed successively through the phases of rapid increase, slight increase, balance, slight decrease, and, lastly, rapid decrease. The lessened germinating-power of surface-sown English grasses has been mentioned; and experience leads me to believe that the second sowing of inferior lands that have got rough with fern and been again burnt is a partial failure, while a third sowing is almost pure waste of seed. Even those that germinate make a miserable appearance, and are mostly destroyed by winter frosts and rain. The ground is, in fact, “sick” of these alien species, just as during the later years it has become “sick” of thistles, the seeds of which do not germinate, though they must be thick on the ground, for immediately the soil is stirred they appear in thousands. (This past season—1907—I notice crops of thistles again appearing to some extent, but only on sheep-camps, and not, as used to be the case, over entire hillsides and over hundreds of acres.) Lastly, the later “spring” in the grass and the later lambings may, I think, in large measure be attributed to this deterioration of the turf. In the eighties and early nineties a change about mid-August could be quite easily detected in the colour of the warm hillsides, and about that date there was a slight but quite perceptible new growth. Nowadays it is the first week in October before much “spring” can be observed in the turf. For many years, too, our lambings have been getting later, owing to the elimination, I believe, of the more nutritious grasses and the consequently later date of the ewes coming in season. Sheep-farmer will understand that in the case of later “springs” and later lambings I have not forgotten to take into account the results of heavier and lighter stocking. With

average stocking, however, I believe I am making no mistake in attributing our later springs and later lambings to the dying-out of rye-grass and clover, and the lessened vigour of cocksfoot, Poa pratensis, and fog. My conclusion is, then, that land is worth less than it was a quarter of a century ago. Larger prices are now paid for it because there is a greater demand, and partly because we now know better how it should be treated. The alien grasses at present on the run, or which have been on the run, are—Paspalum dilatatum, Panicum crus-galli, Setaria viridis, Phalaris canariensis, Anthoxanthum odoratum, Phleum pratense, Alopecurus pratensis, Polypogon monspeliensis, Agrostis alba, Holcus lanatus, Aira caryophylla, Cynodon dactylon, Briza minor, Dactylis glomerata, Cynosurus cristatus, Poa annua, Poa pratensis, Festuca elatior, Festuca ovina, Festuca rubra, Festuca myuros, Festuca bromoides, Bromus mollis, Bromus racemosus, Bromus unioloides, Lolium perenne, Lolium italicum, Agropyrum repens, Hordeum murinum, Sporobolus indicus, “Johnson's grass.” Of these thirty-one species, only nine have been purosely sown, or eleven if Cynosurus cristatus and Agrostis alba are counted. These two, however, were only sown long after the species had found their own way on to the land. Twenty-two, therefore, out of the thirty-one enumerated have reached Tutira unseen and unnoticed. the vast proportion of the run does not carry anything that can be dignified by the name of turf. On the pumiceous lands, although to some extent the hill-tops have become grassed, the valleys still support only fern and manuka. Over this country at intervals of five or six years fires can be run. After such a fire, until the first rain falls, a delicate grey veil of brittle ash, still retaining the mould of the fern-fronds, lies light on the surface, and a pleasant scent of sea-salt pervades the air—an odour similar to that of new-cut bracken. Here and there a totara log, relic of the old forest, sends up a blue smoke, and over the desolate scene sail harriers looking for roast lizards and small birds. The first shower lays the light ash flat on the ground, changing the surface to jet-black, and almost at once new growths appear. Most prominent at first are the bright circles of verdure from the red-clover roots; green needles shoot up from the old roots of Danthonia semiannularis; multitudes of small convex Microlæna stipoides leaves appear singly; some of the old cocksfoot-stools show life—indeed, as the ground around hardens, this grass survives to a greater degree. Then thistle-seeds germinate—few in comparison to the sward of prickly stars

of the eighties; and hardly later appear the cotyledon leaves of clover, trefoil, pelargonium, geranium, silene, capeweed, &c. Poa pratensis perhaps shows up last, though not least satisfactorily, as this grass is better suited than any other alien grass to stand alternate smothering and fire. Seedling fog, cocksfoot, Danthonia, Dichelachne crinita, break through the soil, and finally appear millions of circinate fern-fronds. During the years succeeding such a fire, and on such quality of soil, the fern gradually succeeds in covering the worst, or at any rate the softest, part of the land, and everywhere the seedling manuka has come up thick—it is impossible to eat the fern out thoroughly, as then there would be only manuka left, completely putting a stop to future burning. Then, as time passes, and the surface becomes less open, stock “work” it less. Lastly, after four or five years, the red-clover has been wellnigh eaten out; the white-clover and trefoil has been smothered; the grasses have disappeared from the valleys; only the long soft plumes of Dichelachne crinita pierce the sea of fern-fronds; and the sheep-camps are deep in tall seeding cocksfoot and fog. Last stage of all in this eventful history, the country again becomes “rough” enough to “carry a fire.” On this type of soft spongy pumiceous soil at each successive fire the net result is a slight increase of native grass on the hill-tops, an increase of manuka, and a lessened growth of fern throughout the whole block. Twenty-five years ago there was scarcely any manuka on Tutira, or the small patches that did exist were confined to the most sterile flats. The limestone or conglomerate lands, however, take grass well, and real turf exists on the steeper Tutira hills, and on the Maungahararu tops. By examination of the turf on—A, hill-tops (other than sheepcamps) and upper slopes (Tutira); B, the lower more fertile foot-hills or flats (Tutira); C, hill-tops (Maungahararu), sown in the sixties, we shall get a fair idea of the proportion and varieties of grass carried, and the admixture of clover, trefoil, Carex, rush, and weed. On acre A we shall discover traces of rye and white-clover, and cocksfoot and fog, this last thickest on the damper slopes; Poa pratensis, well established; goose-grass, often much stunted and depauperated; Festuca myuros; Aira caryophylla; perhaps a little crested dogstail and a little fiorin; Danthonia semiannularis, an important constituent, and Microlæna stipoides, another important constituent; Danthonia pilosa, on the hardest, driest spots; Trifolium minus, a valuable plant; T. arvense, worthless. There will be several members of the Carex family, notably C. Colensoi, which is spreading fast, and

which stock will not touch, leaving the spreading tufts of this wiry and worthless plant to crowd out better herbs and grasses. There will be a little yarrow; cranesbill; four sorts of Geranium—G. sessiliflorum, microphyllum, molle, and dissectum—all of them eaten by sheep; sorrel; and, finally, a dozen or so of weeds. On acre B we shall find a much larger proportion of rye, white-clover, cocksfoot, and fog; rather more Poa pratensis; better-grown goose-grass; a sprinkling of crested dogstail and ratstail; and decidedly less of such natives as Danthonia pilosa, D. semiannularis, and Microlæna stipoides. The weeds will be thistles, sow-thistles, sow-thistles, Plantago lanceolata, and P. major. Generally speaking in fact, we shall find that the better soils hold the better grasses for the longer period. On acre C almost no rye, no cocksfoot, no fog, no white-clover, and but little trefoil is noticeable. The alien grasses are sheep's fescue, fiorin, crested dogstail, Poa pratensis; but the bulk of the pasture is Danthonia semiannularis, with a considerable proportion of Poa anceps, and Poa Colensoi, while the weeds in this half are almost all subalpine varieties. This ground was sown in the late sixties, and here too, I am told by former managers, white-clover was at one time abundant. To recapitulate: Acre C, probably the oldest turf of the run, has deteriorated to its normal sheep-carrying capacity; acre B has still got to reach its minimum value as pasture, for in it the native grasses and the less-good aliens are still ousting the better varieties; acre A is undergoing a similar process, its already less-valuable sward being yearly depauperised and adulterated more and more largely with varieties of worthless Trifolium or Carex. Before proceeding to consider the native grasses of the run it will be interesting to note the manner of arrival and spread of the alien species. Lolium perenne, Dactylis glomerata, and Poa pratensis were the grasses almost exclusively sown on Tutira in the eighties, and among such seed, no doubt, appeared Holcus lanatus, Bromus mollis, B. racemosus, Poa annua, Festuca myuros, F. bromoides, Aira caryophylla, and Briza minor. On the Maungahararu Range, then a separate run, probably Agrostis alba, Cynosurus cristatus, Festuca rubra, and F. ovina were purposely sown. At Tutira the last two have never been sown, and only in 1906 were the two first named sprinkled as an experiment in one part of the run. Of all these grasses, Lolium perenne is the most valuable, and the deterioration of the pasture is owing to its gradual disappearance; cocksfoot is another almost equally useful grass; and Poa pratensis ranks third, I believe, on Tutira, for

it is not only a good turf grass, but also the least injured by fire. Fog is also a species we could ill spare: it seeds profusely, and appears everywhere after a fern or bush fire, and, if not allowed to get too rank, sheep will thrive admirably on it. Hundreds of bags of this seed have been scattered over Tutira, and though temporarily dying out in many places, it always reappears. Bromus mollis, B. racemosus, and Poa anna all throw a certain amount of feed, but latterly have become much less evident in the turf, and only flourish nowadays in gardens and worked soils. Festuca myuros, F. bromoides, Aira caryophylla, and Briza minor are almost useless. The last, however, is a handsome little stranger; it has always kept to the warmer part of the run, and, although not now so common as formerly, still appears after fern or manuka fires. Agrostis alba and Cynosurus cristatus are grasses that have appeared during the last few seasons in many parts of the run. I do not doubt that shortly they will be very important factors in the pasture. Festuca ovina and F. rubra are species of which stock are fond, judging from their cropped conditions; if they spread at all, it is very slowly. The other alien grasses on the run have appeared in the following order: Cynodon dactylon, Anthoxanthum odoratum, Sporobolus indicus, Festuca elatior, Lolium italicum, Phleum pratense, Alopecurus pratensis, Bromus unioloides, “Johnson's grass,” Setaria viridis, Panicum crus-galli, Phalaris canariensis, Hordeum murinum, Polypogon monspeliensis, Paspalum dilatatum, Agropyrum repens. Cynodon dactylon appeared in 1884 on the edge of the old pack-track, where it strikes the southern end of the lake. In the twenty-three years that have passed it has never become accustomed to the hills, but still is to be found on the roadsides. It makes some attempt to take possession of gardens and dry soils, and has also established itself on the sandy edges of the lake. Anthoxanthum odoratum appeared in 1885 on a low clay hillock in the home paddock, near the lake. Since then this grass has slowly been spreading up-hill; but after all these years, and although now fully 50 acres are overrun, there is comparatively little in other parts of the run. It seems to have stuck to one spur of fairish clay, taking no hold of the pumiceous ground in the north and west, and but little of the better limestone soil to the south and east. A handful of the seed of Sporobolus indicus was gathered by my overseer whilst on a holiday in Auckland, and dropped

about the place on his return. This is one of these inferior aliens that is destined to take possession of large tracts of the run. It is, however, better than most of the native grasses, and will be welcome on certain soils. It originally reached New Zealand in hay used for feeding a cargo of horses from Valparaiso. Festuca elatior probably arrived in grass-seed. As far as I know, there is but a single plant on the run. Lolium italicum, Bromus unioloides, and Phleum pratense have been purposely sown on Tutira. The first and second have done fairly well on good worked soils; the third has been twice sown and twice been given a good chance, and altogether failed on each occasion—at rare intervals I see an occasional plant. Alopecurus pratensis has found its own way to the run, where it is a very rare plant. For several years I had a plant of “Johnson's grass” in my garden, and although the plant thoroughly established itself, and even to some extent spread, the seed never matured. Cattle and horses, I remember, used to eat the great succulent leaves with eagerness. Setaria viridis has been a garden-weed for several years. Panicum crus-galli appeared in a lawn-mixture, and Phalaris canariensis in bird-seed. Hordeum murinum has quite lately arrived on the road-sides, almost certainly carried in mud adhering to wheels. Polypogon monspeliensis appeared also on the roadside. At first a single plant, it has spread into several damp spots, and was also probably carried up in mud during wet weather, for it is a common species in flooded land near estuaries. Paspalum dilatatum I surface-sowed during 1903 on the pumiceous lands. It has completely failed, though seeds that were roughly scratched in with a knife appeared in a few cases. The species, however, must have great vitality, for in the dense sward of the homestead paddock a chance-dropped seed has forced its way through the other grasses and reached the state of seeding. The seeds sown in a well-manured garden of pumiceous soil, after a good start, were overrun by fog that germinated weeks later. It was also badly burnt by winter frosts. Lastly, Agropyrum repens arrived in the roots of plants bought from a Hawke's Bay nurseryman. Of the native grasses enumerated by Mr. Cheeseman in his “Manual of the New Zealand Flora,” one-fifth have been noticed on Tutira, or twenty-one out of 113. This proportion is not small, I think, considering that there was almost no

open land, and that the whole countryside was forest, fern, flax, and raupo. Probably, however, several of the varieties that have now spread, or become noticeable, may have precariously survived on cliffs, shingle-beds, sandspits, and rocks—any spot, in fact, where they had not been smothered by the enormous growth of fern. The most efficient plan in observing these natives is to mark a particular plant in, say, a cutting well above reach of sheep, or in some barren gully in a lightly stocked portion of the run—anywhere, in fact, where the grass is likely to be undisturbed for several seasons. There, in its self-chosen spot, the natural habits of the plant can be correctly determined, and this is the method I have followed for many years. Last year, however, I thought a native-grass gardeen would give even more accurate results. What with weeds, however, and abnormal growth, the outcome was a total failure, and I found that in fertile land and a soil constantly stirred to keep down weeds the plant's true characteristics were lost. With the utmost care, and dealing even with minute fragments of sod, it was impossible to eliminate the seeds of other grasses—even their roots in some cases—and there was a constant insurrection of these unwanted grasses, besides the growth from seed of sorrel, sow-thistle, thistle, and other weeds, all of which must have been lying dormant among the roots of the particular species selected for observation. Then, the growth was very misleading for practical purposes, Agropyrum scabrum reaching 7 ft. 6 in. when held up straight, and Dichelachne crinita standing erect 5 ft. 6 in., and with seed-stems like fine-grown straw. The twenty-one native grasses on Tutira are: Isachne australis, Microlæna stipoides, Microlæna avenacea, Hierochloe redolens, Echinopogon ovatus, Deyeuxia Forsteri, Deyeuxia quadriseta, Dichelachne crinita and var. intermedia, Deschampsia cæspitosa, Trisetum antarcticum and slender form, Danthonia semiannularis, Danthonia pilosa, Arundo conspicua, Arundo fulvida, Poa anceps, Poa coæspitosa, Poa Colensoi, Poa imbecilla, Agropyrum multiflorum, Agropyrum scabrum, Asperella gracilis. Isachne australis grows only on the marshy edges of the lake, is of no particular value, and does not seem to spread. Microlæna stipoides, in 1882, was the most widely spread of my native grasses, and since then it has fully held its ground. Its value is dependent on its treatment, and when newly burnt it is a nutritive grass, and is kept closely cropped. As it becomes rank, however, it becomes less and less palatable, until at length sheep will sooner starve than touch it. When growing amongst manuka the stems add season by season to their growth, until the grass has almost developed a climbing habit. I have

measured such stems, and found them fully 5 ft. long. and often, I dare say, longer specimens could be obtained. These high stems never seed, and when burnt their crackling is noticable and peculiar. The normal plant, growing in the open, seeds very freely, not only in spring, but after early summer or early autumn rains a second heavy crop is quickly produced. This Microlæna goes by the local name of “coast grass,” but it grows freely sixteen miles inland at least, and at an elevation of over 3,000 ft. The Bishop of Waiapu informs me that Microlæna stipoides was the grass in full possession of the alluvial Poverty Bay flats, and that in a very short time it was completely dominated and subjugated—indeed, killed out—by English ryegrass. Microlæna avenacea prefers hill or ridge tops in fairly open bush, and though to some extent browsed upon by wild cattle it does not seem a very favourite grass. On newly fallen forest country, especially during the first season, when thistles are too thick and high for stock, this grass thrives enormously, showing that it can and does do well in the open. I have measured seed-stalks over 4 ft. long, and the whole plant presents then a very handsome and stately appearance. Hierochloe redolens is worthy of a place among garden-plants on account of its handsome appearance and long drooping silver-grey seed-heads, and has, moreover, when touched, the pleasant scent of sweet-vernal grass. It grows. It grows but sparingly in the Tutira Block, but immediately beyond my western boundary, and on country over 3,000 ft. high, this species and Poa anceps from over large areas by far the bulk of the herbage. It seems to enjoy a certain amount of damp. A dry situation and some shade are necessary to Echinopogon ovatus. It will thrive beneath open clumps of kowhai on dry ridges, on edges of barren cliffs and slips among the logs and boughs of newly cleared bush land, but never in a sward. My local experience would lead me to put a very low value on this grass, both from its infrequency and straggling arid habit. Deyeuxia Forsteri occurs very rarely in Tutira, and from its appearance I should think was a poor, useless species. Mr. Buchanan, however, in his “Manual of Indigenous Grasses,” declares it is greedily eaten by horses and cattle. It grows locally in the soaking edges of waterfalls flowing over papa, or, rarely, on the edges of the lake. Deyeuxia quadriseta will grow where no other grass can live, and appears on the most arid and sterile pumiceous land—lands where even the manuka hardly survives and the fern is depauperated. Its young leaves in such situations become quite brown and very remarkably scabrous. On better lands the leaves be

come much less rough; but in a sward the plant is insignificant, and must be only a very worthless species from the pastoralist's point of view, for lands that will only grow Deyeuxia quadriseta are better out of cultivation altogether. When transplanted into good soil this plant showed little improvement, and is apparently unable to assimilate the more nutritious elements. Dichelachne crinita is one of the better-known native grasses, and at once claims attention by its handsome erect plume of feathery looking seed. This species is especially noticeable in rough pasturage, and is well able to survive owing to the height of the flowering stems, that pierce through the fern, and seed above it. On steep banks Dichelachne crinita is always plentiful, and grows equally well on hard clay or soft pumiceous soils. On second-class lands it is certainly a useful grass. It will survive, besides, on well-manured sheep-camps, and was one of the three native species growing among Mr. J. N. Williams's sample strips of turf at Frimley, on the alluvial Hastings plains. To thus survive amidst English grasses on rich soils proves an abundant vitality, and corroborates what I have already mentioned as to the great growth made by this species when transplanted into a good soil. There is a more slender form (D. intermedia) also on the run; this variety, although much less common, seems also to be a good grass. Deschampsia cæspitosa is locally a very rare grass, and my specimens were gathered from a single plant. It covers considerable areas at the mouths of several of the rivers that feed Lake Waikaremoana. Trisetum antarcticum is one of the natives very much in evidence on edges of cuttings and such spots as sheep cannot reach. On the higher country and the foothills of the Maungahararu Range it is pretty common. It is an early grass, and, as the seed-stems are rare in the turf and rough open lands, presumably the plant is palatable to sheep, and therefore closely cropped. The slender form of this species has also been got on Tutira. Danthonia semiannularis is a species of first-rate importance that was firmly established in 1882. Even in those early days it was widely spread, and has increased every year. On the whole, it is the best native grass we have, as it never gets very rank. It prefers good country and hard surfaces to pumiceous and sandy soils, although it leaves the hardest and driest clays to its cousin Danthonia pilosa. Even on fair hill country it is worth sowing purposely, and there must be now in my own district hundreds of acres very largely, and in some areas almost exclusively, grassed with Danthonia semiannularis. In good soils, and where the sward is well worked by cattle, this grass would carry one and a quarter sheep per acre.

Danthonia pilosa is a species about which I have some hesitation in writing, as I am not sure of the type. The commoner form at Tutira is locally a bad grass, both on account of the dislike to it—except when fresh from a burn—of stock, and furthermore that in the wet Tutira climate fires can only be run over this grass every second, or third, or even fourth season. On the other hand, this form might be a valuable plant on hard clay soils in a dry district. This, the less-good form, has narrow involute leaves on erect culms. In the better variety the leaves are broader, flatter, very pilose, and of a noticeably deeper green colour, and the culms have at first a decumbent habit, the seed-stalks rising only from the first joint and some continuing to lie flat. This habit of the culms may arise, however, from the centre of the plant having been eaten out by sheep, for I have noticed in heavily stocked country Microlæna stipoides and some other grasses to a lesser degree adopt the same device, as if for self-preservation, and with an apparently instinctive knowledge that culms lying flat on the ground would be more likely to reach maturity and perpetuate the species. These two forms of D. pilosa were unknown at Tutira in 1882, and the first clump ever seen by me in the district was on the old Tongaio—Tutira pack-track, at a spot several miles from my southern boundary. In 1885, however, I discovered it covering scores and even hundreds of acres twenty miles to the north-east; but it was not until the early nineties that it began to make its appearance on Tutira. Then, within a couple of seasons, it seemed to establish itself all over the run on spots specially adapted to its requirements, and since then each succeeding year sees the hard dry clay soils more and more over-run. On pumiceous soils it seems less happy, and so far it has not encroached on the turf of the high ranges to the west. Arundo conspicua adorns many parts of the run with its long nodding plumes. Arundo fulvida grows thickly on several of the almost precipitous papa slopes that face towards the south. In the eighties there was a patch of land on Tutira known as the “Burnt Bush”; this had been forest through which in an extra dry season a fire had run, probably about twenty years previously, and long before the run had been “taken up” or stocked. Fern had in the eighties not quite taken possesession of every foot of this land, where still the great gaunt boles stood in thousands, and here the commonest of the surviving grasses was Poa anceps. There are several very slightly differing varieties on the run, and it is one of the native species that will probably compose eventually the turf of the poorer or higher lands.

Poa cæspitosa grows naturally though sparsely on my higher country towards the west, though it is not found on the main ridges of Maungahararu. On the Tutira hills it has been sown by chance, probably with rye or cocksfoot seed harvested in Canterbury, where the species is common. I remember in the early eighties but one single tussock, and after twenty-five years there are but two or three patches, the largest, perhaps, 60 ft. by 20 ft. Though so exceedingly slow to spread, it takes possession very surely, allowing no other grass to survive. The increase seems to be by root. Poa Colensoi is a rare grass, on the highest country I possess, and I have not noticed it under 3,000 ft. Poa imbecilla seems to be another high-country grass, and grows locally at about 3,000 ft., and in the edges of bush lands. Agropyrum multiflorum and Agropyrum scabrum are common grasses on the dry edges of road-cuttings and steep banks. They also manage to find plant-food on the most barren pumiceous lands—flats so dry and poor that even in our rainy climate they dry up after a few days' drought. But it is not only on such barren spots that these species survive; in all good free soils, wherever the herbage gets rough for stock, and the plants consequently are allowed a chance, these species appear and seed freely, and in my native-grass garden, on good well-worked soil, long healthy bronze-green shoots appeared immediately from the transplanted sods, and I have mentioned the height of the seed-stalks. These species, therefore, like many other natives, would do well on good soils if not choked by rye, cocksfoot, &c.; as, however, it is practically impossible to prevent this on such soils, these natives are only worth cultivation on lands where the strong alien species will not thrive. Asperella gracilis is the last of my native grasses, and I have only one plant of it on the run. It makes up the twenty-first species, and with it my list ends. Any interest attaching to these notes seems to me to lie in the fact that with the deterioration of the surface soils the hardier natives tend to resume possession, and that the balance of nature is again tending to right itself. The exuberance of growth during the eighties was abnormal, and the alien grasses are no more going to permanently destroy and oust the native grasses than the British weeds are going to destroy the indigenous wild flowers, but one of which has vanished from Tutira during the past quarter-century. The alien weeds, however, will form a future paper, and with these concluding remarks my notes on the grasses of Tutira must end.