ne or two of our rivers are more
beautiful than the Rhine; the plains of Canterbury are finer than
midland England; the rolling ranges and lakes of Otago may bear
comparison with Scotland and with Wales; Mount Egmont or Tongariro would
make Vesuvius blush; the hot-spring region of Rotomahana and Rotorua
contains wonders that cannot be matched between Iceland and Baku; and
here in the North our forest country is grander than the Tyrol, and more
voluptuously lovely than the wooded shores of the Mediterranean. At
least, that is what those who have seen all can say.

But, though nature has given us such sublime triumphs of her raw
material, these have no history, no spirit. They tell to us no story of
the past; and poetry has not crowned them with a diadem of romance.
Hence their effect is partly lost, and when we New Zealanders go "home"
for a trip, we find a charm in the time-hallowed landscapes of the Old
World, above and beyond all our greater scenic glories here.

Still, here and there in this new land, we have contrived to invest some
special spot with a kind of infant spirit or baby romance of its own.
Here and there our short history has left a landmark, or Maori
tradition a monument. Already we are beginning to value these things;
already we are conscious of the added interest they give to our scenery.
But to our children's children, and to their descendants, some of these
places will speak with more vivid earnestness. They will appreciate the
stories that as yet are so new, and will take a rare and lively pleasure
in the scenery enriched by the tale of their pioneer ancestors, or by
legends of the native race that then will be extinct.

New Zealand has even now what may be termed its "classic ground," as
will be found in another chapter. But there exists a great deal of Maori
tradition connected with various spots, and some of us do the best we
can to preserve the tales that adorn certain localities. Some of the
legends are mythological. Of such sort is that which gives such vivid
interest to lonely Cape Reinga; the place where the spirits of dead
Maori take their plunge into the sea, on their way from earth to the
next world. Such, too, is the dragon legend, the tale of the Taniwha,
which graces the volcanic country in the interior.

Besides these are the numerous stories of a more historical sort,
incidents of love and war, which hang around the places where they
happened. A country like this, so rich in natu