At Kanieri a similar function took place, after some hours had been spent by the Bishop and myself in the claims where the men were at work. In one of them, giving him a long handled shovel, they invited him to dig some wash-dirt, and then wash it in a cradle. There was quite a nice little lot of gold, and, seeing the Bishop smile as the glittering scales shone out in the pan, one of them whispered to me: "It wouldn't do to disappoint the old man, so we've just 'salted' it a bit!" Needless to say, I didn't give them away.
Then we went to Ross by a new route, worth seeing. Into the southern side of the river Hokitika, near the sea, flows a tributary stream from Lake Mahinapua, with a course of some eight miles. In most parts the water is deep, with very slight fall, winding its way through primæval forest, its banks fringed with luxuriant growth of fern and flax. Being entirely sheltered from wind, its surface is like a mirror, in which the reflection of fern and foliage is so vivid and clear-cut that, looking down, you might fancy yourself on your back, gazing up at a vista of forest into the blue sky above. I have never elsewhere seen anything to compare with it. We started early, a lovely morning, with my boat and man, the Bishop steering, and reached the lake, some miles in breadth, enclosed by wooded ranges which form the foreground of snowy mountains. It is here that I take my choir boys for an annual outing, and I doubt if any boys ever have a jollier time of it, in three boats, a long happy day, from early morning till late at night. At the further end of the lake a narrow stream leads to a landing, from whence some miles of road have been made to Ross.
An entertainment of welcome to the Bishop had
