On the 24th January I had the opportunity of witnessing the funeral of a woman. Two native carpenters made a strong but rough coffin of totara planks, sawn out of the solid log, and at sunset the body was placed in the coffin, carefully wrapped up in the mat she wore while living. The body was tied down, and carried to the place of burial, where a moderately deep grave had been dug by the young men; a hymn and some prayers were said over it, the coffin was lowered, and the earth filled in. The whole of the funeral was conducted by the men, all of whom, within reach, attended. Everything belonging to the deceased was buried in her grave, and all her stores of food were cooked in a large humu, and distributed to each male adult. There was no crying, and apparently very little mourning, the deceased having no near relatives. I have now witnessed a birth, marriage, and death amongst the natives.

I now made up my mind to go up the Mawera, or River Grey, and visit the lake from which it is said to take its rise. I proposed then to ascertain the nature of the country lying between it and the plains of the East Coast, and to be guided by circumstances as to my future route. Here, however, I was forced to remain stationary for a month. Ekehu had gone fishing with a party to the northward, and did not return for nearly three weeks, whilst the last ten days were fully occupied in making preparations for another start, repairing canoes, and laying in a stock of provisions for the bush.

This interval of rest afforded me however the opportunity of making a few observations on the general character of this part of the country. From Cape Farewell, until you arrive at the river Grey, a range of mountains runs parallel to the coast, sending down to the sea spurs or lateral forest ridges, terminat­ing in cliffs and headlands more or less bold and precipitous, the valleys or ravines between each of these contributing a stream more or less considerable, fed by the snows of the central chain and the drainage of its sides. In walking therefore along the coast between these points, you have frequently to clamber over a rocky promontory jutting out into the sea, or, where this is impossible, to take advantage of the receding tide to pass round its base, strewed by the granite fragments which have been detached by the action of the water; and having toiled among the broken rocks for a greater or less number of miles, you again come to another stretch of sandy beach, another river to be forded, and another precipice to try the goodness of your footing and your nerves. The only interruption to this occurs on the banks of the Buller. The mountains here receding from the coast leave a large level tract of forest, through which the river takes its course to the sea, having first broken through the rocky gorge which detained us so long at its base; and then the same description of country recommences until you reach Mawera.

My route down the Buller afforded mean oppor­tunity of seeing the interior of this mountainous region, through the middle of which it seems to have broken its way. My journal sufficiently shows my opinion of the country on its banks. The Inakaiona (Inangahua) valley alone seems adapted for the habitation of man; and from the Arahura I saw the opening at its southern extremity, about fifty miles inland, running nearly due South. It may be described as a large tract of level country extending from the Buller to the Mawera, or Grey, sixty miles long by four or five in breadth, separated from the sea by the mountain ridge of the coast, and hemmed in to the east by the mountains of the interior. But shortly before you arrive at the Mawera, the character of the country is totally changed. The hills diminish in height, gradually sinking into the open country; and from the Grey you look over a level or gently undulating country, with a coast-line of forty miles, bounded to the interior only by the line of the horizon. Having passed this tract, you again enter the region of rocks, precipices, torrents, and mountains, or, as I have heard them called, the Southern Alps of New Zealand.

As far as my own experience goes, I should say that it is not impossible to follow the coast down to Dusky Bay, if you can guard against the danger of starvation; but I neither saw nor heard anything to induce me to think it would be attended with any result but the gratification of curiosity. But the district of the Grey requires a further notice. It is watered by four rivers-the Grey, the Taramakau, the Arahura, and the Okitika. The two last, according to the natives, take their rise from a remarkable snow-capped mountain, visible in the far distance on a clear day, called Kaimatau, bearing S.E. from Taramakau; the Grey said to flow from a large inland lake, and the Taramakau to have its source almost close to it. I now made my arrangements for visiting these localities, and on January 26th, 1848, again set out upon my travels.

January 26th. This morning freighted our canoe with our provisions, clothes, and fishing apparatus. I considered myself as on board the admiral's canoe, which was the largest and first to start, having in company three others. The names of the canoes that ascended the river with me were as follows: Te Wairakou, with myself and nine natives; Te Maikai, with my four natives and Aperahama; Te Paiekau, with two natives, carrying nets; etc, for fishing; Te Muttamutta, with four natives - so I think I was well equipped, considering I had nothing to give the natives for all their trouble, except good wishes. There was much crying amongst them when I left, and apparently some good feeling towards me. They told me to return amongst them, and share what they had; and although tobacco is so much valued amongst them, they offered me two sticks - the half of all their stock.

It is really an exciting scene to see four canoes poling and paddling up a fine stream on a clear day. We came up about five miles of the river, and camped at an old fishing-station, prettily placed on an island called Mautapu, (Motutapu – bears the memorial to Brunner) which rises about 100 feet above the level of the river. At this place the river is confined between two low black birch hills, part of the coast range. The level land of the coast reaches to this point, all timbered, chiefly rata, on either side of the river. About a mile above Mautapu is a seam of coal of apparently very fine quality, which presents itself under a stratum of mica slate. (town, coalfields & mine on this location named after Brunner) The coal is hard and brittle, very bright and sparkling, burns freely, and is free from smell; the seam is some feet deep, and level with the river's edge, but at least fifty feet below the surface of the earth.

27th. Paddled up the river about three or four miles, to a point where the river divides itself into two streams -the right hand and smaller branch, called Kotu­-urakaoka, (Arnold River) bearing about S.E., and leading to a pass to the East Coast, almost at right angles to the main stream. We stayed here for the night, the natives wishing to fish, and I anxious to look about me. This is the place where Ekehu, my lad, lost his father, and was taken prisoner himself by the Ngaitau tribe. We were successful in fishing.

28th. Paddled up the S.E. branch of the river, the pass to the east, leaving the women and children behind with two of our canoes.

After proceeding about five miles, we again left our canoe with some natives to fish, and kept on until late in the evening. This branch of the river is wooded, but with a con­siderable belt of level land on either hand.

29th. Again ascended .the branch, and by night reached the lake (Kotuku Whakaoho - Lake Brunner) a sheet of water of about six or seven miles square,

with a small low island near the middle, to which we paddled, it being an old fishing ­station. Fine.

30th. Examined the lake in our canoe, and found it very deep, with a sandy or mud bottom, and in some places large granite rocks. The country im­mediately around the lake is a level bush, bounded by a pine forest, and surrounded on three sides by black birch hills of moderate elevation. The country towards the east is low, but the district is shut in by a high mountain region towards the S.W.

This is the lake frequented by the natives on their route to the East Coast: they reach it from the coast by ascending' the Taramakau, from which it is divided by a long reach. From this point they tell me they reach the open country of the East Coast in two days' walk.

31st. Returned back to the main stream, where we had left the women and canoes. They had a plentiful supply of fish, showing their industry during our absence.

February 1st. This morning we again started, leaving our native friends behind us, excepting one as a guide. The fine open land ends here, and long reaches of shingle border each side of the river, which is deep and unfordable. After going up it for eight or nine miles, it takes a northward course,- nearly parallel to the coast. During the day we passed the mountain at the head of Kararoa, and camped for the night under the range of the Kiwikiwi and Waiwero.

Te Raipo, the native whose canoe I am using, ascended all the mountains in search of the kakapo, and seems to know them all well. At each spur he names the part of the coast to which it corresponds. There are houses of former times in many places on the banks of this river, resorted to by the natives for the summer months, when they live on eels, upuku­roro, fern-root, and the liquor of the tutu berries.

The latter has here a much finer flavour than in most other places, and may be taken freely without injury We traversed at least fifteen miles of the river's bank in the course of the day, three natives working the canoe generally, and at all times assisting, myself chiefly walking on either bank of the river, with the aid of the canoe to cross from time to time. The foliage of the country is chiefly pine, with a belt of manuka on the immediate banks of the river.

2nd. We ascended about four more miles, when we came to a point where the river again divides itself, the smaller branch running to the S.E., the main branch, which is our course, still making to the north. We camped at this junction (Ahaura River), to explore ahead previous to taking the canoe. Up to this point the country is chiefly wooded, but at the junction a grass plain commences, which I shall see the extent of as I proceed.

3rd. A wet, rainy day.

4th. Another wet day; and my Ngaitau guide told me he must return and see his wife and children, but that if I would wait, he would return with a change of weather.

5th and 6th. Rainy.

7th. A rainy morning, but about mid-day the wind changed, and the clouds began to break, and the night showed signs of a fine morrow. Natives and self off exploring, when we found a patch of fern, which we quickly began rooting up to examine its quality. Finding it to our taste, we resolved to spend the next day in digging fern-root. I took to my fourth pair of trousers, leaving only one good pair in the kit. I find nothing so useful or durable for trousers. in the bush as good duck, and nothing worse than fustian.

8th. Started this morning to our fern patch, when I left the natives to work, and with some difficulty pushed my way through the low underbush, and ascended to the grass terrace, which I found running along the river's bank for about four miles, and stretching to the S.W. about five miles, forming a nice little sheep-run of very excellent grass, well sheltered, being bounded and intersected by a pine forest containing some good trees. On the northern bank of the river there is nothing but forest reaching to the chain of mountains that bound the coast. On returning in the evening, tested the quality of the fern-root, which was found very sweet and agreeable to the taste, particularly so when mixed with the juice of the tutu.

I had written by a native called Peter, to Mr Fox, for a small payment for the natives, to enable me to get a guide to cross the island, and also for means to return to Nelson by some vessel, in case I should make any port on the East Coast. Peter promised to return by December, but while I was down the coast he started, and left me a message that he had altered his mind, and would not return until the winter, but that I was to make myself comfortable, and resort to

his potato-garden for provisions. This was my chief reas,on for returning by the river Grey. My natives also positively refused to accompany me across, saying they should never get back.

While on the coast I caught three kiwis - one large and two small. There are two distinct species. This country used to abound with them, but they are now nearly extinct by the dogs of the bush. They are coarse and ill-flavoured, but make a meal for a bushman.

9th. This morning we packed up our loads, which, when collected together, were found to be rather bulky: mine however was light, though large, consist­ing of dried fish. We came on about a mile to our fern-root, where we camped to allow it to dry, and enable the women to enlarge our kits. Fine.

10th. After accomplishing rather a long mile, we were brought to a standstill by a fall of snow. We erected a shelter at the commencement of another grass flat of considerable extent, level with the river on the northern bank.

11th Rainy.

12th. Came on about two miles, when Ekehu, looking back, discovered a smoke which he supposed to be the fire of our Ngaitau friends returning. Self and Ekehu left our loads and returned to ascertain, when we found it was our late house which had taken fire. Proceeded about five miles farther, and again built another shed, which the rain at night proved the value of. The banks of the river are a series of grass and fern patches, running back to the main forest some three or four miles deep, with here and there patches of underbrush.

13th. Alternate rain and sunshine.

14th. After walking about three miles we came to a large shinglebed, where the river divides itself into several branches; and after some exploring about, we took the one to the northward, and ascended about two miles, when the rain began to fall, so we had to erect a shelter at the edge of a grass plain some miles square, apparently very good, and well sheltered by clumps of trees.

15th. Rainy.

16th. I made a sally out, and found, by ascending a high tree, _e had taken the wrong turn, or rather the wrong branch of the river, its bearing being too much North. I believe this is the pass to the Tuhinu, which the natives formerly travelled to catch seals at Tauranga. When the weather permits, we shall have to retrace our steps to the main river, which must be my course. Rain.    ..

17th. Another dirty day, at least too wet for leaving our shed to brave the rain, but we managed to procure for supper a fine eel and two woodhens. A sharp frost at night, and very cold.     .

18th. A fine morning after the fog had risen, and we once again mounted our respective burdens, and made a start. Leaving the river, we took to a thick though level bush, and steered by compass due South; and in about two miles we came to another moderately large stream, also a branch from the main stream, its junction with which I could see, and which I considered was bearing too much to the S. W. for our purpose; so we took the branch, and ascended nearly three miles, when Ekehu so increased the weight of our loads by the addition of eleven large eels, that we resolved to stop and eat some. The land on either side of the river is level and mostly wooded, the timber being principally of the pine tribe. Fine.

At this point we finally took leave of the main stream of the Grey, which, according to the natives, takes its rise in a large lake to the eastward (Lake Christabel). Ekehu also recollected having been there when a child. The Grey is certainly a fine river for New Zealand, and worthy of the name of our Governor, after whom it is called. Could it but be connected with a harbour it would make a fine field for colonization, there being much good land fit for arable purposes, and some good grazing districts in well-sheltered positions; also some very fine timber for sawing, quite accessible, as well as a quantity of fine kauri for spars-at least what I believe to be such. The shingle bed of this river in many places abounds with coal, though of an inferior quality to the seam near the sea. In it is also found the stone used by the natives for rubbing down their poenamo; it is something like a Newcastle stone, though rather closer in the grain, and has a fine cutting quality.

19th. We pushed on about three miles to the edge of another grass plain, when the rain, which had been falling in showers, began to wet us through, and com­pelled us to erect another shelter. The quality of the country about the same as usual.

20th. Very warm day.

21st. Walked along the grass for about four miles, till we came to a division of the river, when I resolved to look ahead before I carried my load, so I went on, and ascending a small fern elevation in the grass plain, chose the most easterly branch for my course and returned to my encampment. Fine.

22nd. After walking about two miles along the grass, we came to a part of the river shut in between two low ridges of hills, covered with black birch for nearly two miles, when we again came to the open country, consisting of grass, fern, flax and manuka, reaching al}ead as far as the eye could see, and about three or four miles in depth, when it is bounded by a high range. We again progressed some three or four miles, keeping the banks of the river, or bed, which is not very deep at this place, and better walking than the grass, and camped on the plain. I lit several fires during the day, which burnt all night, and freed us from the nuisance of the sandfly and musquito, for which this river is famed. Fine.

Some of the bends of this river I passed today are as beautiful, in my opinion, as nature can possibly make them. The river is clear and deep, and runs over a bright shingle bed; the undergrowth on the banks is a beautiful mixture of shrubs, and the adjoining bush fine lofty rimu, rata, apd black birch, with scattered patches of fern land. I was so pleased with the Grey river that I should not object to visit it again.

There is a great number of wild dogs here, which sadly lessens the quantity of the ground birds, for which it was formerly noted.

23rd. The appearance of the country before us induced us to spend a day here on a small patch of fern, and obtain its roots for future use. Fine. There is nothing like keeping up the stock of provisions whenever an opportunity offers, although the back has to suffer from the weight; for in this country it is often much easier to exhaust than to replenish.

I am also obliged to keep the natives as well fed as possible, for they are continually murmuring; telling me they are sure, if they continue to follow me, I shall starve them. They several times threatened to return to Massacre Bay, and live with the natives there, rather than take their chance in the bush of safely reaching Nelson.

24th. We all agreed on the necessity of erecting a shelter against the approach of the storm we saw nearing us, which reached us about midday, and just as we were housing our baggage. Caught some eels.

25th. Rain, in storms, all day, accompanied with heavy thunder and lightning.     .

26th. After we had accomplished about three miles, the rain again overtook us, and we were obliged to build another shelter. The grass and open country still continues to bound the northern bank of the river, averaging a depth of nearly four miles.

27th. At our camp.

28th. A walk of five miles brought us to the termination of the grass, where the river flows between two black birch banks.

29th. Last night the natives found a hole of water, from which they caught thirty-five eels of various sizes, but, put together, of such a bulk and weight that they would not hear of moving on, but set to work to take out their bones, and expose them to the sun and smoke to dry. Fine.

If eels are carefully dried and skinned, the head cut off, and opened down the belly, the bone carefully taken out, and the flesh exposed to the smoke to dry, . they would last some months, and this is, in my opinion, the best way to eat them. An eel should be about five pounds or six pounds weight, and if too dry, soaking it in water for a few hours, and then basting it over a slow fire, makes it a very good dish.

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