in life my paralysis seemed to disappear, soon I could turn over and move in bed. Within ten weeks I was fit enough to the discharged. The doctor was amazed at my rapid recovery, and as he said goodbye, he pressed a five pound note into my hand. I took a taxi to my room in Ponsonby. The owner had let it to somebody else, but all my belongings were with the Samoan family upstairs. They did not know what had happened to me, for I had used a different name from that which the hospital people had found in my driving licence. They were overjoyed to see me and had even washed and pressed my clothes for my return. Their joy turned to sorrow when they heard of my intended departure to Rotorua, for I was determined to keep my promise to my dying friend. My plan was to work in Rotorua for a while before making the journey to the Urewera Country. No sooner said than done for that very night I arrived in Rotorua. I stayed at a hotel near the Road Services, where the tucker was good, and a girl even brought me a cup of tea in the morning. I felt like a big chief, but that did not last long for I was soon stacking timber at the big sawmill on the road to Taupo, just out of town. I became accustomed to the sulphur smell very quickly, and came to like the unusual qualities of Rotorua. The atmosphere of progress, the big new blocks of shops and offices being built everywhere, the visitors to the thermal region bringing a touch of lands across the sea, the large Maori and part- Maori population mixing on equal terms with the Kiwis and the Dutch and Pommie immigrants; all these things appealed to me. Nevertheless I must not establish myself too much there, for I must go 70 miles further, down into the bush. I asked several of my work-mates if they belonged to the Tuhoe people, but they replied ‘That'll be the day, we're all Arawas here’. Several times I thought I could hear the sing-song voices of the Ureweras on the street, but I was too shy to ask them. In the end I told the boss I was leaving, and started to hitch-hike to the mill which I had heard was in the middle of the Kaingaroa Forest. After a few minutes a car picks me up and we are rushing past the verge of the forest, with new development lands on the right. Soon we pass Rainbow Mountain, and the driver drops me at the turn-off at Waiotapu, for my route now is along the dusty road through the heart of the forest, which leads to Waikaremoana and eventually to Wairoa and the sea, over a hundred miles away. My luck must be in, for a huge logging truck roars to a standstill and takes me all the way to Kaingaroa. (The rows of pine trees seem to go on for ever and ever, and I can certainly believe now, that this is the largest man-