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Hawke's Bay Times, Volume 7, Issue 381, 31 May 1866, Page 4

Waimaeama.—lt will be seen by a notice elsewhere that the nomination of candidates will take place on Monday next, 4th June ; the polling on Tuesday, the sth, if such be necessary; and the declaration of the poll on Thursday, 7th June.— A. Chapman, Esq., is the only candidate we hare heard of up to this time. One of the Effects of the Long Deohght. A notice appears in our advertising columns this morning, signed by Messrs Baty and Torr, dairymen, to the effect that, in consequence of the long f drought, and the scarcity of feed for their cattle, they are compelled to raise the price of milk to 8d per quart.

Descexftion of Theanganhi.—The “ own correspondent” of the ‘Wellington Independent’ supplies a long and interesting account of Major Eraser’s march from Waikato to Poverty Bay, and finishes his letter with an amusing, and, at the same time, truthful description of Turanganui, which latter we have much pleasure in transferring to our columns: —“ To a stranger arriving in Turanganui per vessel, and looking to meet at once with some signs of the boasted beauty of the place, the first feeling must needs be disappointment, and so harmful are first impressions, that it is by no means improbable that the traveller never does justice to the district, owing to the disgust excited by his first acquaintance with it. With an extent of between 70,000 and 80,000 acres of some of the finest fiat land in the island, Hacked by bills for thirty miles in the direction of Wairoa, that will become available for sheep ; with a harbor wherein vessels of any tonnage would find shelter in the worst weather, it cannot be denied that Poverty Bay has little to deserve its title —well watered, well timbered, well grassed, it is even now a natural garden of exceeeding beauty. The wretched little corner in which the Turanganui river runs ont, and wherein the stores are planted like spiders’ webs, to catch the flies that the scent of the Government carcase has attracted hither, is never likely to rise into any importance beyond that of a shipping port. One of the queerest of places is Bead’s marine store, house, ship, barn, coal bin, wine vault, or whatever designation may properly appertain to the mysterious looking building alluded to, between

•which and the Wilson Redoubt, has grown up one of those squalid Maori locations, half Tillage, half fishing pa, not unlike Te Aro or Kai Warra Warra, filled with old men sewing nets, old hags catching fleas, or worse, dirty children dabbling in mud and making toy ships out of pumpkin rinds; young women washing and combing their hair ; mangy dogs, measly pigs, a miserable half-starred horse or two, an occasional goat and a few bilious-looking fowls, while the ground is strewed with broken canoes, bits of boats, pieces of rope, straw, shells, kits, fish-bones, broken bottles, and smelling of every vilianous compound that the dirty habits of a lazy people allow to sc cumulate day by day at the very doors of their filthy hovels —the whole situated on the muddy banks of a tidal creek, in whose hideous' black oozy > depths, lie, half-hid, all imaginable substances in every conceivable state of rottenness, from utter putrescence to partial decomposition, diffusing odors like anything but ' gales from Arsby.’ ”