groups; but it is of large size, and is easily distinguishable by its leaves, and by its long bunches of small white flowers. The next prevailing features of the forest are three pines, all of which are found about Dunedin. The red pines are the most common, and are found very large and straight—usually the monarchs of the forest. The other coniferæ are the black pine and the totara. Another tree, and a singular one, is what is called the black oak, known to botanists by the name which I have irreverently quoted above—dracophyllum.
I have previously alluded, in these notes, to the beautiful shrubbery, by which the sea-cliffs of this part of the West Coast are adorned. What we had chiefly admired from the decks of the steamer was a small ornamental shrub, Olearia operima, somewhat resembling a crysanthemum. At this season the seeds are ripe, and the opportunity was a good one for those who were so disposed to make a collection. The Senecio rotundifolia is another ornament of the coast, and is somewhat of the same description, with a daisy-like flower, but its peculiar leaf is its readiest source of recognition. On the return passage of the steamer, and while waiting at the Bluff, we saw, in Mr Longuet’s well-tended garden, some of the shrubs; and they have only to be seen to be appreciated. Its thick leather-like leaves are usually the size of the palm of a man’s hand and often six inches in diameter. The Veronica elliptica is another shrub common to the coast, its peculiarity being its small leaves arranged in four rows along the twigs. These are the shrubs which chiefly give to the coast its lively appearance, and none of them—at least none of the first two—are found on the East Coast, and they are only known to be obtained at Stewart’s Island and the Bluff. As a rule, they do not extend far in from the shore, and are seldom found at a greater height than 200 or 300 ft. from the level of the sea. One other—a pimelia—grows by the water side—a large shrub with a fibrous bark so excessively tough that it can be stripped off in lengths of six or eight feet.
Ferns are not an especial feature on this part of the West Coast. So far as Mr Beverly’s experience and the experience of others has gone, the neighbourhood of Dunedin is, perhaps, as fine a field for ferns as there is to be found in the country. About Dunedin there are thirty or forty descriptions of ferns which are absent here, yet there are seven or eight species which are strange, and not only strange, but, even to the uninitiated eye, attractive. These are chiefly film ferns—hymenophyllum and trichomenas. They monopolise the ground in some places, occupying acres of space; and no trappings of human designs could excel them in appearance, when they form part of the drapery of the moss-grown trunk, or the pall of the monarchs of the forest, when they have fallen from their high estate. To a painter like Noël Paton, these would be, professionally, worth all the fungi that a humid climate could produce, or that imagination could invent. Another beauty is the Lindsaea, the fruit of which grows in a groove in the margin between two folds; but that which is most abundant in some of the Sounds, and most noticeable by its gigantic size, is Lomaria Procera. Its fronds are comparatively enormous, and in many parts they form a perfect carpet to the sides of the Sounds.
