ger tells us, while we gaze at the view,
inwardly wondering whether wandering artist will ever present this
glorious landscape now before us to people at home. But the story must
be reserved for another time, until we are able to do justice to it.

At last the _Lily_ is lying right off the beach of Te Pahi township, and
her whistle is echoing among the woods on the ranges above, scaring the
shags, kingfishers, and rock-snipe on the oyster-beds and beaches. Very
speedily, two or three people appear at the township, and one of them
puts off in a boat to board us.

To him we are shortly introduced by the Pirate, and handed over to his
care, as candidates for a berth in the immigrant barracks. We discuss a
nobbler, which is at once a farewell one with Pirate Tom, "The Crew,"
and the rest of our fellow-passengers, and an introductory ceremony with
our new acquaintance, "The Mayor."

A merry, athletic, thoroughly healthy and hearty Englishman is our
friend, the Mayor, always in a hurry and bustle of business, for his
avocations are startlingly numerous. He is the oldest inhabitant of the
township, and was called the Mayor when he dwelt there solitary, a few
years ago. Now he is postmaster, storekeeper, justiciary,
acting-parson, constabulary, board of works, tax-gatherer, customs
officer, farmer, dealer in everything, town clerk, lawyer, doctor, and,
perhaps, a score of things beside, as they reckon such in Te Pahi.

The Mayor hurries us and our traps ashore in his boat, and deposits us
on the beach. Then he hastens back to the steamer, bidding us wait
there, as "he'll be back to fix us before we can have time to wink."
Half a dozen men and boys--the entire population--stand at a little
distance, regarding us shyly, but inquisitively, with pocketed hands.
Some young children are also apparent.

As we stand gazing about us, and wondering how to make acquaintance with
the group, a little girl comes running up to us. It is always the
superior sex, you see, even in the bush, that make the first advances.
She offers us peaches, the little bright-eyed, sunny-faced thing; and
readily submits to be kissed; indeed, appears to expect it. Then she
prattles away to us in right merry fashion.

The little incident breaks the ice. The group of men come forward and
enter into conversation. Perhaps a trifle constrained at first--for
dwellers in the bush necessarily lose the readiness of people more
accustomed to society--they show thems