of the American species were seen, covering gentle slopes and many broad
acres of level land, where Government is endeavoring to establish
artificial forests throughout wide reaches of unwooded country. These
trees grow more rapidly here than they do even in their native soil.
Miles upon miles of this level country were covered only by the
low-growing ti-tree and the ever present ferns; the former, being a sort
of tall heath, was in some places in bloom, producing an effect as if a
light fall of feathery snow had lodged upon the delicate branches.
Flocks of sheep and lambs were numerous, but the population was sparse.
The whole landscape was lighted up here and there by the bright yellow
leaves of the wattle-tree, which contrasted strongly with the black
beech, the deep green of the cabbage-palm, and what is called the
white-pine, which is totally unlike any pine we ever saw. Several
miniature villages were passed through, where a few small European
houses clustered in the neighborhood of the railroad depots, consisting
of a blacksmith's forge, a grocery-store, a one-story inn, and three or
four dwellings. There was plenty of water everywhere. Now it was a small
and pretty stream, and again it was a large river's course. At one rural
hamlet a rustic water-wheel was revolving, splashing and sparkling in
the sunshine with a noisy, gleeful sound, telling how easily and
thoroughly these fields might be irrigated. We passed through what is
called the Waikato Pastures, a rural district where herds of
fine-looking cattle were browsing, and where cheese-making is a
flourishing industry. Some coal mines were being worked upon the route,
connected by side-tracks with this main branch of the railroad; the
coal, it was plain to see, was a good article for domestic use or for
manufacturing purposes. Small Maori encampments, composed of a dozen
lodges each, were scattered along our way, the lazy, tattooed
natives--men and women--lingering about the stations with blackened
pipes in their mouths, smoking the rankest sort of tobacco, while they
kept up a chattering like Benares monkeys. Why Maori women and savage
squaws generally are so fond of wearing men's hats, with a feather stuck
into them, we cannot understand; for though serving the purpose of a
head-covering, they are far from being ornamental. The awkward Maori men
looked doubly outre in their ill-fitting European clothes.

Oxford is the somewhat pretentious name given to the