was incomparable with the reaches between Pipiriki and the houseboat. Here were more clearings, more settlements, and more ports.
We were not long out from Pipiriki until we rammed the left bank. A score of Maoris, bright with many colors of dress, shawl, and handkerchief, awaited the onslaught. A plank was put out, and a dozen steerage passengers came aboard. As the steamer moved downstream, they shouted and waved their hands to their comrades ashore, and their farewells were responded to with similar demonstrations. This was the largest number of passengers we had yet received, and it betokened the presence of a village near the river. But from the landing no village was visible.
"What port is this?" I inquired of a fellow voyager.
"Jerusalem," he replied. "It is quite a settlement."
It was quite a name for a Maori kainga, too. To the Maoris it was known as Hiruharama, their name for the Holy City.
After a short run we rammed the left bank again, and took aboard three bales of wool.
"What place is this?" I asked again.
"London," I was told, to my still greater surprise.
Near this wilderness navigation became very exciting. The steamer entered one place too narrow for turning, and it became necessary to back it down a stretch of rapids with the aid of a wire cable. It was a difficult performance, but the pilot-captain, continually shouting
