but
the details of the capture and sticking of those we manage to catch do
not differ very much from the account already given, except that we have
not killed any pigs of particularly large size.

About noon, or somewhat after, we make a decided halt for the purpose of
getting our dinners, of which we begin to feel very much in need.
Unhappily, no one has brought a tin pannikin along with him, so we
cannot make ourselves any tea; but we light a fire at the bottom of a
shady gully, beside some running water, and commence to cook our repast.

Each man has got his little parcel of bread or biscuit and meat, tied up
firmly in flax, and fastened to his belt; but besides this, the bush is
affording us other kinds of tucker. Katipo killed a kiwi in the course
of our morning's hunt, and this bird is now being skinned, cut up, and
roasted on sticks. We wish it had been a weka, or bush-hen, as that is
more succulent eating; but we have hearty appetites, and will do justice
to the kiwi, anyhow.

Then the Maoris have cut out the livers of a couple of young pigs, and
these are toasted in strips, and are not such bad eating after all. By
way of desert we have some berries from the trees around, that prove
very nice.

After our appetites are satisfied, and the digestive pipe duly smoked,
we resume our hunting operations. But luck is no longer with us, and
when, after walking and scrambling for two or three miles, and feeling
that the time is fast slipping by, we do come upon pigs, we get
separated in the chase that ensues, and I find myself very shortly after
that completely alone.

I keep walking on, however, in the direction I judge will bring me out
upon the place of assembly; and, after an hour or two, I begin to hear
sounds of life. I am on somewhat high ground, which gradually slopes
downward in the direction I am taking. It is all heavy bush in this
part; huge trees, covered with ferns and creepers, soar upwards on all
sides. The sunlight falls in patches here and there, through the canopy
of branches far overhead, and occasionally there occur little glades and
dells and openings, quite open to the light.

Below the great trees are many smaller ones, among which I notice
nikau-palms, cabbage-palms, fern-trees, and tingahere, attracting the
eye with their stranger forms. Below these, again, is a thick jungle of
shrubs of many species, masses of creeping-plants matting the bushes
together, or depending from the trees and