published reports of my visits to all parts of New Zealand have awakened much interest in the mother country. Time will not permit me, on the present occasion, to discuss the future prospects of settlement on the Sounds of the West Coast, of which I have attempted a general description. It has been proposed to place some Norwegian emigrants on one or more of these fiords, but any scheme of this nature will require careful consideration. There are now no inhabitants whatsoever, either European or Maori;—the few families of natives seen in Dusky Bay in 1773, by Captain Cook, appear to have become extinct;—and the tales related by the old whalers of thirty years ago, concerning a tribe of wild men haunting these desolate shores, have probably as little foundation as the stories of flocks of moas having been seen, within living memory, stalking over the neighbouring mountains. Nor can I trespass on your patience any longer with remarks upon the fauna and flora of this part of New Zealand. The supply of timber seems almost inexhaustible. Ducks and other wild fowl are numerous. Whales and seals abound, as well as excellent fish of various kinds. We were tolerably successful in shooting and fishing. I may enliven this part of my address by reading Dr. Hector's animated account of one of our seal-hunts, in which, however, we were not fortunate. "On one occasion," he states, "the chase of five seals with the steam pinnace of the 'Clio,' in the waters of Milford Sound, afforded a most exciting and novel sport. The seals, startled by the snorting of the little high-pressure engine, instead of taking their usual dignified plunge from the rocks into deep water, and so vanishing out of sight, went off at full speed, diving and reappearing in order to get a glimpse of the strange monster that pursued them so closely. The utmost speed that we could make barely kept us up with them, until they began to show signs of distress, and, one by one, doubled and dived under the pinnace. Two of the seals held out for a run of three miles, and succeeded at length in getting into safety among the rocks on the opposite shore of the sound. From the experience of this run, the force at which seals can go through the water would seem to be not less than six or seven miles an hour." On the occasion to which Dr. Hector here refers, we, unfortunately, had not our rifles with us, but on subsequent days, as was stated above, I shot several large seals, in addition to a number of wild ducks and other water-fowl.
In conclusion, gentlemen, I beg to thank you for the indulgence with which you have listened to this somewhat desultory address. I am fully sensible that these imperfect remarks on rarely-visited regions of this Colony can claim little merit beyond their fidelity. My original notes were written in full sight of those wonders of nature which have left so deep and lasting an impression on the memories of all who have had the good fortune to behold them.
