population; if you chose to buy land here now, and wait thirty years or so, you would make a fine profit."
After camping for the night on the road, I reached a very pretty, well wooded, sheltered spot, lying under a ridge of the downs which ran down to the sea, intersected with streams, which had little fall, some deep, and almost without current, bordered with thick flax, and not easily crossed, except in certain places. Its name is appropriate, Waimate,—"Dead water "; there was a small Maori "Pah" in the neighbourhood. I found a welcome from Mr. Studholme, the first settler, and next day crossed the downs and, fording a stream of some size, which looked as if it ought to be full of trout, the Waihao, I reached a settler's house, on the banks of the Waitangi river, one of the largest glacial torrents of the South Island, formidable both in width and volume of water to man and horse, and if one was superstitious, in its name, which in Maori tongue means, "The water of lamentation," a name probably given to it by the natives because of some catastrophe which had happened to them. Being unable to get a guide, or any information as to a possible ford, I had to tackle the river alone; descending its steep banks, which lie some distance from the actual river, as, during the ages, it has changed its course repeatedly, I crossed several back-waters and small islands, dotted with cabbage trees, and found myself on the edge of a broad, fast-flowing stream, running apparently over a smooth shingle bottom, shallow at first, and then deeper. Taking off boots and coat, and strapping them to the saddle, I went in, heading down stream towards what looked like a good landing-place on the other side; in a few yards my horse was swimming, the water
