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five Maoris for that purpose. We had a very good run down, which was fortunate, as there was no sleeping room for all hands, about seventy being on board, some of whom were compelled to lie on the cargo, to my loss, for they “walked” into my bottled ale rather heavily. Great was the fun, and many were the practical jokes played on those unfortunate individuals who did happen to retire to the arms of Morpheus; some had the inside of their hands blackened, when, by tickling their faces with a feather, they immediately commenced a series of pantomimic gestures, tattooing themselves in the most grotesque fashion, to the great merriment of all the non-sleepers; then as they awoke one by one, and noticed the ludicrous sight of each other's faces, those in the joke beckoned them to keep the fun up, which they answered with knowing looks and half-smothered laughter, little dreaming, poor dupes, that their own faces were in the same ridiculous plight; thus we had the whole of the tattooed fraternity looking and grinning at each other, everyone imagining that he was enjoying a capital joke at his neighbour's expense. One at length, breaking into a genuine laugh, with difficulty exclaimed, “Poo—oop—oop—Jack! wash your face!” “You'd better do that!” from Jack, in the same strain, with general chorus from all hands. A dispute arose, in which the coloured gentlemen compared each other to various and sundry pretty things unmentionable, which was brought to a summary conclusion by the introduction of a looking glass, whereupon the mine exploded, and they unanimously decided upon taking revenge out of the balance of “Waite's bottled ale!” Thus we merrily passed the time until arriving at our destination; but a good beginning is often the precursor of a fatal end, and so it very nearly proved in this case, as will shortly be seen.
On arriving at the Grey, we entered it in first-rate style, and steamed up to the landing opposite to what is now called Mawhera-quay. Here we landed the goods, which were of course left exposed on the river beach, and all hands started off prospecting. My Maoris set cheerfully to work, and, with plenty of help, I soon managed to get up a temporary store. In the meantime, the goods were going out as fast as I could possibly sell them; ay, before I could get them out of the vessel the diggers were jumping down the hold for them. At the Maori pah there were none but women, and when they saw the steamer they could not tell what to make of it; it was the first steamer that was ever on the Grey. The Maori men had all gone to get gold, which made the white men all the more anxious to go, and before long I was left almost alone, all the diggers having gone to the Teremakau River, where the Maoris were digging, and with the exception of my storeman, and Mr. Batty, who came down with me to get the coal, there was no other white man left at the Grey.
About a week after I had been at the Grey, some Maoris came down from the diggings and brought with them a sample of about
