low level, came floating out seaward, and were dissipated as the sun gained strength. Southward the hills were like so many green pyramids in a bright blue plain; northward the land was overhung by a thick haze, which, as it happened, prevailed also on the following morning, and had the effect of misleading us as to the locality of our destination.
A landing was effected in the whale-boats at a place called Transit Beach, and we afterwards entered Milford Sound.
MILFORD SOUND.
Transit Beach, where we effected our first landing after leaving Dusky Sound, is a short stretch of shingle beach, a mile or two to the southward of Milford Sound, and quite exposed to the ocean swell. Along this part of the coast, between the Sounds, there are several small bays, or inward curves of the shore-line, which, when seen from a short distance out at sea, are somewhat deceptive. Apparently they are openings to Sounds of inferior size, but, when seen more closely, their beaches become visible, and they are discovered to be Sounds which have, at one time, been converted into dry valleys by the deposit of moraines. Transit Beach is the beach of one of the smallest of these valleys, being only about a mile in length, and the stretch of forest between it and the mountain-foot is of inconsiderable extent. The diggers of the party expressed a wish to land here, and one of the boats was placed at their disposal. They appeared to land easily in a snug corner at the northern end of the beach, and proceeded to prospect the same, and a bank of the small stream which there flows into the sea. In one of the whale-boats, some others of us attempted to land towards the southern end of the beach, and we succeeded in doing so with considerable ease, but the experiment is not one which it is advisable at all times to undertake, even under such circumstances as those with which we were favoured. Around the steamer, a mile or more offshore, the sea was of an oily smoothness; the swell was all but imperceptible; and there appeared to be just enough of ripple on the beach to wave a mermaid’s hair. But we found, when we got into the shallower water with the boat, that there were big blind waves rolling in, and on some foul ground there was a considerable surf. We got a good “smooth,” however, and landed with only one little incident. Our friend the botanist, as the boat touched the ground, got tipped over the side, taking his wallet with him, and a large amount of our sympathy, although it was not, at the moment, exhibited. With his face towards us, he pirouetted, turtle fashion, for a few seconds, but picking himself up, demurely walked ashore, smiling at his own grief; and I positively found him, not five minutes afterwards, with his enthusiasm nothing damped, and glowing with appreciation of a Dracophyllum urvillearum, or a Dacrydium laxifolium, as if sea-water was altogether of secondary importance. The beach is a steep one, indicating a considerable weight of surf, and is composed chiefly of shingle with occasional patches of sand. It is backed by a terrace, 20 or 30 ft. high, similar to those terraces which, on more northern parts of the West Coast, have been found to cover ground richly auriferous. We washed
