the hills and valleys, the broad expanse of lagoon is margined not “by fruits of gold and whispering myrtles, glassing softest skies, clear and cloudless, save with rare and roseate shadows,” but with the luxuriant New Zealand bush, which, in every season of the year, has a beauty all its own. The foliage, reflected like a beautiful mirage in the clear depths of the lagoon, or broken in kaleidoscopic fragments by the tiny wavelets and ripples of the river, clothes alike the uprising terrace and the low-lying alluvial flats; the sombre lines of the evergreen Fagus (black and white birch) being relieved by the bright bloom of the Loranthus (mistletoe), and the more vivid green of ferns in multiform variety, the graceful outline of the nikau palm, and here and there, in season, the brilliant red of the rata bloom, and the more subdued tints of the New Zealand fuschia. To the practical eye there will be an absence of marketable timber, but penetrating the bush, with its close interweavement of supplejack, there will be found many a giant of the forest to whom the poet’s words will aptly apply—
“Majestic tree, whose wrinkled form hath stood
Age after age, the patriarch of the wood!
Thou who hast seen a thousand springs unfold
Their ravelled buds, and dip their flowers in gold,
Ten thousand times yon moon relight her horn,
And that bright star of even gild the morn.”
Crossing the river, the traveller will reach what is termed the island, and will see a small jetty, an iron store, a stockyard, and one or more small buildings. Landing here and following a road a little way inland, he will come to the accommodation house kept by Host Simpson, and will here find good and comfortable lodgment and a genial welcome. Here is also the district schoolhouse and snug residence for the teacher. If anxious to know where the rest of the settlers live, a comprehensive sweep of the arm may indicate that some live “over there across the lagoon at the Black Swamp,” some “up yonder,” meaning a mile or two, or more, in the bush, and the rest at the “Promised Land.” Half amused, half wondering query as to the origin or meaning of this latter designation may lead, if the traveller is inclined to listen, to a long tale of the history of the settlement, of the early struggles of the settlers, their disappointments, grievances, and hopes, as yet but half requited. Briefly put, the history of the settlement is this:—As far back as 1867 some of the early Nelson settlers, hearing that the land was good and the river afforded safe approach from seaward, made speculative purchase of sections in the Karamea district, getting the land at about ten shillings per acre, and looking upon their investments as something whereon by and by the “unearned increment” would total up to tangible profit without effort of their own. Years sped, and the profit on their investment seemed long in coming, in fact it is as yet in the dim uncertain distance. By and by our legislators, in their wisdom, bethought themselves of establishing special settlements, and the Karamea was selected as an eligible spot whereon to dump down—the phrase seems apt—a shipload of new chums. Whether the fact that their occupation of the country would add to the value of purchased lands
