ers of the Wanganui, and were reduced to very
short rations. In order to get canoes, Selwyn inflated his air bed, and
placing it on a frame of sticks he sent two of his Maoris sailing down
the stream upon it, and was thus able to make known his plight to the
settlements below. When a canoe at last arrived, the weather changed,
and the descent of this beautiful stream was in every way a joy. From
far above Pipiriki, Selwyn landed at every _pa_, and held service or
catechised the natives. Sunday, November 19th, was a time of special
interest. "A more lovely day in respect of weather," he wrote, "or one
more full of interest in respect of its moral circumstances, or of
pleasure from the beauty of the scenery through which I passed, I never
remember to have spent. It was a day of intense delight from beginning
to end: from the earliest song of the birds, who awakened me in the
morning, to the Evening Hymn of the natives, which was just concluded
when I reached the door of the native chapel at Ikurangi."

The remaining weeks of the year 1843 were spent amongst the "Cook Strait
settlements," in most of which good progress was evident. At Nelson a
church and a neat brick parsonage had already been built, while at
Wanganui the Maoris had resolved to pull down their brick church and to
build a larger one in wood. Wellington was still the unsatisfactory
spot. No English church had yet been begun, and the sense of grievance
was still strong.

However natural such feelings might once have been, they were surely
inexcusable now. For since the bishop's last visit, Wellington had
contracted such a debt to the missionaries as should have changed its
grievance into gratitude. The New Zealand Company had made its great
blunder in attempting to take possession of the Marlborough plain
without buying it from its native owners. The result had been the Wairau
tragedy, in which 19 white men had been killed by the Maoris under
Rauparaha and Rangihaeta. The effect of this deed of blood was quickly
felt in other parts. Up every river valley the news was passed that the
Maori had at last turned on the pakeha, and had beaten him in open
fight. The crafty Rauparaha, fearing a terrific act of vengeance on the
part of the white men, resolved to forestall any such danger by driving
them out of the country. He felt certain of his own Ngatitoas, but
between them and Wellington lay Waikanae, where Hadfield's influence was
strong, and where Wiremu Kingi,