generally to Okarito. Later in the day he came for us as the tide was pouring in like a mill-race; and our boat was carried swiftly along a channel between silvery mud-flats, where red-footed oyster-catchers and long-legged stilts were running about. You can row for miles at high tide—one view after another unfolding of wooded bays, of towering snow peaks mirrored in still waters, of forest rolling away into blue distance with great patches of scarlet on its outer fringe, and overhead soft skies with clouds for ever sliding from the sea to the mountains. There are islands where the tree-ferns droop their long fronds above their reflections in the quiet waters; channels of still, brown water winding far into the heart of the forest. Down one of them we rowed into the mystery of its cool green depths, beneath a canopy of crimson ratas, and almost tropical growth along its edge. It seemed to wander endlessly among the trees, but eventually came out again on the lagoon. Here there is a swannery of the wild black swans, and innumerable wild duck. We were told of boat-loads of swans’ eggs taken every year, but the birds are too numerous to be much affected.
Of the white cranes we saw but three—nor did we see a nest, and had to be contented with the harbour-master’s description of how he found one with the mother-bird on the eggs, sitting in the heart of a tree-fern. The families of ducks were greatly disturbed by our presence, the old birds flying up and down with distressed cries, or flapping
