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pillow that I had brought with me from England—my mother gave it me when I was coming away. The Maoris looked ou this act as one of extraordinary kindness on my part, and they never forgot it. They would do anything for me. I must say that I have always found them mindful of any good turn, and anxious to show their gratitude; but their kindness to me for lending that pillow was far beyond what might have been expected.

“When Tattoo died, the next best man was Jacky White—Karitai was his proper name. He was a more important man than old Taiaroa, who, as I have said, or intended to say, was only of third-rate importance then. What sort of people the Maoris were? Well! you may safely say that they were an industrious, decent-living lot. They used to be great hands at fishing. I have seen a dozen, and sometimes as many as twenty canoes, go out of a morning fishing for barracouta; and they would take their double canoes outside the Heads without fear of being blown off. Sometimes, too, they used to go in boats, when they could get them. As to drink, they did not often take it. It is a lie to say that they were a drinking crowd. Those engaged at Weller’s were entitled, as well as the whites, to a gill of rum in the morning before going out; and d’ye know what the Maoris did? They carefully bottled it off as they got it, and afterwards sold it to the white people at a little less than the price at the store. That’s a fact, and I should like you to print it. They never drank the rum themselves, but they were always ready to make a bargain with the white men for it. Yes, they were naturally business men rather than drinkers. You folk who get your ideas of what the Marois are like from the poor specimens you see about towns have a wrong notion altogether of what they are like when left to themselves without contact with the white man.