NARRATIVE OF A JOURNEY THROUGH PART OF THE NORTHERN ISLAND OF NEW ZEALAND, IN 1849.

New Zealander, Volume 5, Issue 389, 5 January 1850, Page 3

NARRATIVE OF A JOURNEY THROUGH PART OF THE NORTHERN ISLAND OF NEW ZEALAND, IN 1849.

( Continued from our last.) After breakfait we passed on through the forest, and at noon reached a pati of some size on the summit of tlie range, from which we got the nr-«t siirht of Tongariro Mountain, towering above the clouds, and biili intly reflecting the sunshine from its snow-covered sides and peak. The natives of this pah are Roman C«tho!ics, and geetned inclined to take liberties with us. They insisted on our remaining there for the night; ami our natives, whatever they might have felt, did not show any reluctance to comply. I therefore took one of the burdens, and prepared to get it on my back, dfclariog my determination to move on, whether they did or not. My companion did the same, and the natives no longer hesitated to follow — glad, themselves, perhaps, of an excuse for leaving the most villainous - looking set that ws ever met with on the whole journey. At sunset we Siw a cloud of vapour a great way off, near to which we knew a chief, whom we desired to visit, had a temporary residence. We had walked all day, and my kn?e was slightly sprained, but still wj pushed on, over hills, dales, and ravines, and reached Pohipi's huts about nine o'clock. He was encamped by the sid=j of the Waikato, cloie to a hot spring— which form»d a warm bath, withai twenty yards of the cold clear water in the river. We found Busby, or Pohipi, as hit is culled, an excellent fellow. He is chief of the country at the northern end of Taupo Like—h as considerable influence, and was most friendly lo us. Tnere being no rapids oa the river from its source to where we were encamped, tbe chief offered to conduct us on, in his canoe : we set off very early and reached the Lake to breakfast. The weather was fine and the sky clear, which enabled us to see the Lake and the great mountain, in all their beauty. After paddling and walking tome, mile* along the western shoie, we ascended the hills near Pohipi'i principal pah, called Jerusalem, and hid a splendid view of the whole of this inland sea. The shores are unfortunately bare of trees, which gives the land a somewhat sterile appearance ; but the wa'er, the ialandi, and above all, the glorious mountain, forma magnificent scsoe, Tongariro is said to be about 10,000 leet high, and half covered with snow. The peak is conical, and appears flanked by two shoulders which slope gradually to the base. Vapour is continually rising from the cone, aud resting in » white cloud on the side of the mountain. The Lake and adjacent rivers are full of floating pumice-stone— showing that great eruption! have taken place. i The Mountain is held sacred, and the natives had not hitherto permitted any one to ascend the peak.— After having spent a delightful day, and reached the limit of our journey, we turned our faces northward, and again arrived at Pohipi's encampment on the river before dark. The chief accompanied us on our way to the north-west ward— for we were now directing our course towards the plains of the Waikato. The nrer itself cannot be followed, for in its mountain-courie it is full of rapidi. We passed Sunday at & little village in a woodded valley. The weather wai beautiful, and the rest and quiet delightful. Pohipi read prayers and preached to the assembled natives -one of whom, a female, spoke Euglisb. She had visited Sydney, and travelled about with an English captain, but returned in her old age to her own people. One of the natives who came with vi from Tarewera found an old female relation at tins place, aud as they had not met for a long period their greetings were most vociferous, if not affecting. To our habits, although a burst of teavs at meeting, alter long absence, frequently testifies deep feelings of joy, yet a prolonged howling and weeping seems a most ftrange mode of welcoming a friend ; such, however, is tbe way the New Zealaniiers show their love— spend • I inn a onsidevabte tune in weeping aud lamentation before they shake h-mds and rub noses, a ceremony j whiju follows the " tangi" oc crying abovenaentioned. i On Monday we left the little valley ; and this time, without succeeding in engaging the services of another native to supply the place ot one who left us at Taupo. No less a mm than ten shillings a day was asked, and of course refused. There wai nothing for it but to carry a part of our luggaga ourselves, and vre shouldered our pae'es accordingly. Our friend Pohipi seemed very much concerned about it ; but even he was not free from the avaricious disposition of his race. The firit day we passed through the valleys of a hilly country, and reached a village on a hill called Uapotia, where we spent the night; and the following day continued on over a land that possessed little inttreit.— The soil seemed poor— it is destitute of people, and will not likely be resorted to by the descendant! of Europeans until the rich slopes and vallieg farther north are crowded vrita inhabitahts. The weight of our but dens began to tell upon our hacks and limbs ; walking was no longer a pleasure but a toil ; and rest in the tent which we pitched at sunset by the side of a stream in the desert, was an inexpressible relief. This night the rain began to fall, and the next day it blew a gale and rained in torrents ; to stay in a dripping tent would have been folly, we therefore set out soon after dawn, and kept steadily on through wind and ra ; n for many a weary mile. The road was this day so hilly and hteep as to oblige us at times to creep up in the mud on nil-four*, and slide down on the other side as we best could. Sometimes we crossed moun. tdin»streami, ruihing on among steep rociis to feed the rivers of the plains ; and (or teveral hours treaded our way through a tangled and dense foaest, without meeting a living soul to vary the monotony of ihe desert path — wuh which the natives, as well as our. selves, were perfectly unacquainted. Towards evening we came upon an empty hut and a small clearing, which led us to believe that the rutive village to which we were journeyi -q wan not far distant. Mr. — cou d go no further, but as our food was nearly all exhausted and an hour ot daylight left, I determined to puih on, and one of the natives was willing to accompany me. At dark, however, we were still in the middle of a forest. Tbe native advised our lying down till morning, but as I had no inclincvtion for o

forest bed iv a rainy night, J insisted upon tils moving onward. We frequently lost the path, but he pierced the forest manfully, and I kapt fast hold of* him, lest we should be parted in the black darkness of that tangled wood ; he frequently sat down, and refused to go further, but I would not Ist him alone ; and about nine o'clock our perseverance was rewarded by finding ourselves close to the stockade of the Urge village of Arowhena. My bed was a hard one, that night, but extreme fatigue made me sleep soundly in the smoky hut where the Teacher allowedj me to rest-. Eirly on the following day I sent some supplies to the party in the forest, but as I was most anxious to reach the plains which now were seen stretching away to the northward, in order to make anangements for descending the river, I pushed on alone. The native who had come so far was too tired to proceed, and the others, as before, made enormoui charges, which I continued to resist. Arowhena stands on the highest point of the range of hills which bound the plain* of the Waikato and other riven. Between that village and T.*upo, as I have already mentioned, the appearance of the country ia very unfavourable, but from thence to the northward u assumes a most feitilo and even beautiful appjarance. My path led down the slopes ot the hills to the flit and undulating country below, watered by many streams, encircled by many woods, and enlivened by the smoke of many villages t I was io weary with my burden and foot sore with, long walking, that when I stopped to rest I could scarcely rise a^ain ; yet I enjoyed greatly the cheering prospect before me. Being short of provisions, f ghdly accepted sothc roasted potatoes from an old woman who kindly asked me into hsr wretched horel on the way-side. In the evening I reached n large village where I was told that a European reiided. The native men, who crowded round me, to ask questions offered to shew me his dwelling, but took no notice of my tired condition ; a woman, however, true to the nature of her sex all over the world, saw at a glance that I was weary ( and upbraided tlum for not taking my burden, of which I Was then immediately relieved. The European, Mr. Perry, received me with much hospitality, and gave me all the comfort which his cottage could afford. After a sound sleep I felt much restored, but my feet were so swoollen aa to prevent my walking any further. Mr. Perry therefore kindly lent me his hor a c, by which means I soon reached the Church Mission sta ion of the district, and met with a cordial welcome from the Reverend John Morgan. That station — Otawhao —is in the midst of a very populous part of New Zealand, for the level country is extensive ; and several rivers, which take their rise in the hills, pass near it on their course to the sea. The Thames flows to tho northward and enter* the Gulf of Hauraki, about 30 miles to the eastward of Auckland. The Waipa joins the Waikato, which us I before mentioned, falls into the sea, on the western coast The laud on the banks of these rivers is generally level and fertile, and of «ufficient extent to afford support to a very great population. As they cm be eaiily reached from Auckland, there might be a gradual spreading of colonization by means of these navigable rivers. At present many native villages and cultiva ions are to be seen ; but far the greater portion of thU fine country lies waste. I doubt not but the time will come when towns, villages and farms will give life to the present dull scenery ; and instead of the log canoe, by which all passenger* are now couveyed oti the riven, smart steam-boats may connect the settlement! with each other, and carry communications from Auckland to the heart of the country in a few days. Judging from what has been done in other Undi, such ideas are not unreasonable. But, though almost certain to arrive, these changes, in a land so distant from the Mother-country* cannot take place very tapidly : and I could not avoid » feeling of melancholy in. the thought, that none of the present generation are likely to see the realization of the picture which the imagination is apt to form at every remarkable point of vijw. By far the moat interesting of the native settlements in the Waikato country is that of Rangiawhia near Ouwhao the Church Mission station. I rode over there and to my great surprise saw from an eminence several hundred acres under cultivation. The wheat which they have lately begun to plant was then juit above ground, and gave such a greeii appearance to the land that it seemed lika a fine English estate laid down in grass. Clumps of till trees, r.imins of the forest, have been left in many places, and the native cottages and chapels on the rising 1 grounds wi.h fruit trees about them have quite a picturesque appemnce. They are^lenving "ff the spade and hoe and us>ng a plough and hor«es of wirch thsy have seen the advantage— the Governor having sent a team and a European to teach them its use. They have a good fljur mill which I found at work grinding the last year's wheat for the Auckland market, and they are very buiy taking in more waste land for further cultivation. I was scarcely prepaied to see so pleasing a icene of industry and improvement, chiefly owing to the benevolent and unwearied exertions of the Missionary, Mr. Morgan. The natives see very clearly the benefits they derive from industry, aud their example is being followed by other tribes on the rivers, who are saving the money that their pigs and potatoes sell for at Auckland, to purchase flour mills, several of which are now in progreis of erection. Mr. Morgan is at this time striving to excite them to improve their houses and style of living, as well as their fields, and also endeavouring to establish a school for h.a!f-oaste children, manyjof whom are living with their naive mothers, or as neglected orphans in the villages.

Isthmus of Panama.— from various lources we glean the following facts respecting the Isthmus, which is deitined to be the gateway of nations. Notvrith-. standing the fertility of the soil, literally nothing has been done in agriculture and that for the best of reasons—the crops have not been enough in demand to pay for the raising of them. Cotton grows spontaneously, and that of an excellent kind. Alligators and lizirds are common, but inukc3 hare not been Been by the emigrants. Annoyance from insects has not been as great as it is in the United States in the warm seaion. The climate is uncommonly healthy. One traveller sayi, "It is more necessary to wear arms in Ne* York than here." la the city of Panama state prisoners are daily marched about the streets, chained together two and two, and employed in labour. The military force of the city is about 300 men, etnbraoitig Spaniardi, Indians, negroes, aud men of mixed blood. The fort is dilapidated and incapable of any efficient service. The more intelligent peop'e desire a bitter government, and ar« looking to the United States foe it. If the policy of our nution were like that of the Roman republic, to annex to Ks.slf all creaUon, and destroy itself by the raeaus, here would be the place to make our beginning in Sou h America.— New England Puritan.

Utility of Netties.— k i> a »in?ular factt thh* •teel dipped in the juice of the nettle, becomes flexible. Dr. Thorqton, who lm nude the medicinal proper t * of our wi'd plants his peculiar itudy, states, that lmt dipped in nettle juice, and put up to the uostril, ba* been known to stay the bleeding ot the noac when a 1 Uicr remedies have failed,