heard.
Shortly after his permanent settlement, Mr. Puckey made a journey to the
extreme north of the island and reached Cape Reinga. Standing on the
black cliffs against which the sea was dashing with terrific force,
listening to the scream of the sea-fowl and the weird noise produced by
the waves in a hollow cave, the white man could easily understand how
this dread place came to be regarded by the Maoris as the gateway into
the unseen world. The masses of kelp which swung to and fro in the waves
were believed to be the door through which the spirits passed to
Hawaiki, or to some idealised counterpart thereof, and a projecting
tree-root halfway down the cliff was highly venerated as the ladder
which assisted them in their descent. Very pathetic was the fear
expressed by the older Maoris lest the white man should cut away this
frail support of their hope of a future life: "Let the young men go with
you to your heaven, but leave us our ladder to the Reinga." The
missionary left them their ladder; but he told them on his return to
Kaitaia that, whereas a death had occurred there during his absence, he
had seen no bunches of grass on the road, such as they believed to be
left by the spirits while passing up the coast. The old superstitions
were clearly shaken, and the better faith soon took a powerful hold upon
the people of the north.

Though this first attempt at an extension of the work was encouraging,
it meant but little for the rest of New Zealand. Until a real attack
could be made upon the south, the work could hardly be said to have
begun in earnest. The land and the people were for the most part
unknown, but a venture of faith must be made. This venture was begun in
the October of 1833 under the leadership of Henry Williams, and
constitutes one of the turning points in the history of New Zealand.

Besides the leader and the Rev. A. N. Brown, the expedition consisted of
Messrs. Fairburn and Morgan with a party of Maoris. They left the Bay of
Islands on October 22nd in open boats. The nights were spent on various
islands, which they found to be all deserted, though everywhere they
could see the remains of fortifications and villages. Where now the
merchants of Auckland have their summer residences, there were no living
beings to share the morning devotions of the missionaries, save the
birds with their melodious songs. On the site of the Mokoia _pa_, where
Marsden had so often received the hospitality of Hinaki, t