their troubles, and have proved that special settlements, much as they have been decried by those who know naught about them, can be made a success, albeit the first experiments were costly, and, for a time, unsatisfactory. The Karamea settlers, like those at Jackson’s Bay, have even now grievances which in justice and common humanity should not be ignored by those in authority. Isolated as these people are from all communication with the outer world, save the casual visit of a steamer, or by making a toilsome overland trip, dependent also on their own labour for the food they eat and the clothes they wear, they should not be forgotten in the annual vote of money by our Parliament. A few hundred pounds spent annually on road works, to open up back country and give facilities for gold prospecting, will be always money well spent, and will keep the Karameans in good heart.
Viewed from the road which runs along the river bank, this portion of the settlement presents a pretty picture. The clearings disclose the flat dotted with snug little cottages, each surrounded by its cultivated paddock and garden. Flowers, in their season, will be found in abundance, from choice specimens of roses or the gaudy dahlia, to the humble polyanthus and the daisy border. The hum of the busy bee falls soothingly on the ear, and the merry chirp of bird mingles with childhood’s happy laughter, all telling of thrift and peace, and life’s full vigour. Entering the settler’s houses, the visitor will find hearty greeting, the best seat in the house at his disposal, the best fare in the cupboard spread for his refreshment. He will find amusement, interest, and food for quiet reflection in conversation with people, who, coming from their village homes in the quiet far-off English counties, have formed a compact community, still clinging to their old home associations, and knowing little of the colony they inhabit beyond the stray news now and again brought them.
Possibly having got so far on the northward, the tourist, hearing that beyond the Karamea there is little trace of human life or occupation, may bethink himself wise to retrace his steps and hie back once more to the Buller, and in such decision he will act discreetly, unless endowed with an ardent desire to penetrate scarce trodden solitudes. Three miles north of the Karamea is a pretty little stream called the Oparara, with a lagoon on the northern bank; and here one or two settlers, or rather cattle keepers, reside, whose herds roam in the bush and find good feed. A glance at a map of the coast will here best serve to indicate the line of country, of which now is submitted a cursory description. Three miles north of the Oparara the mountains again approach the coast, but a sandy beach continues as far as the Haihai River. At this river is found a steep bluff, which it is impossible to round at the base, and it becomes necessary to climb a hill some 700 ft. high, through dense vegetation, and thence descend again on the other side. After this is passed there comes another bit of sandy beach, and then a succession of giant boulders, until the Heaphy and Whakapoai River is reached. Here high limestone cliffs ascend abruptly from the northern bank of the stream, and some more stiff climbing is entailed amidst most wild surroundings. Following the coast-line, the route leading over a succession of rocks and small sandy beaches, the Taura-te-Weka
