a packer named “De Silva,” a foreigner, a talkative, consequential little fellow, to accompany me thither. The day was anything but an inviting one, the rain coming down in torrents, and a strong north wind blowing. The first ten miles of our journey lay along the beach, southwards, the sea very rough, and the breakers rolling in with great force. My guide did not seem to mind, but rode right through them. Six miles from the Grey we came to a river, the Paroa, generally known as the Saltwater Creek. This we crossed and rode four miles further, then we reached the Teremakau; here I found two stores. Our journey now lay inland from the mouth of the Teremakau, which river had to be crossed four times. The Maories camped about advised us to stay where we were, that a ‘fresh’ would soon be down, and that it would not be safe to cross the river. De Silva, however, knew better. I trusted entirely to his judgment in the matter, and off we went; got over the first ford all right, but found on reaching the second that we could not get across, the river was rising so rapidly. De Silva then came to the conclusion that the best thing we could do was to hurry back. We re-crossed the river, which we found fully a foot higher than when we crossed half an hour before; and a good thing we did, for a heavy fresh came down which prevented any traffic for some days. Had we succeeded in getting over the second ford the chances are that we should have had to remain in the river bed, between the second and third crossings, until the fresh went down. We had no alternative, so rode back to the Grey. There being no prospect of my getting to the Greenstone for a week at least, and having collected all the information I could about the place, I thought it advisable to return to Nelson, which I did. My report, on the whole, being a favourable one, it was determined to send me back by return steamer with a view of opening up a business on the West Coast. The Bank of New Zealand were quite alive to the importance of sending a man down to occupy the field, especially as they saw we were making preparations for so doing; so they sent one of their staff, a young man named Walmsley, who was a fellow-passenger with me on my second trip.
5th November.—Made a second start again in the Nelson at 6.30 a.m. Later in the day it came on to blow so hard that we had to put back, and anchored under Tonga Island; made a fresh start again in the afternoon of the 6th. Rough sea and very foggy. At night met the Wallabi, a new steamer from Sydney, built to the order of N. Edwards and Co. This boat came down just in the nick of time for the West Coast rush. She coined money for her owners; in fact paid for herself in a few trips.
7th November.—Awoke by a heavy sea coming into the cabin. Jumped up and found that we were putting into Wanganui Inlet, it being too rough for us to proceed—heavy chopping
