fifty yards of our camping place which would have afforded us first-class shelter from the elements.
“We reached the Taramakau the following evening. Here I met Sergeant Broham for the first time. He was in McGregor’s tent writing his usual weekly report. He was squatted on the ground, and writing on his knees, the rain drops coming through the roof and on to his paper; writing under difficulties and no mistake. On reaching the Saltwater next day we found it flooded and had to camp for the night, so one of our party went back to the Taramakau for some flour and some ‘wai pero’ (strong water, i.e. gin). The next day we reached the Grey.
“The following morning when on the beach I noticed a Maori picking up something and putting it into a kit (basket). I was inquisitive enough to ask him what he was about, and found he was collecting eggs, the eggs of a small bird called tara, or sea swallow. I picked up a few which we fried for tea; they were excellent. I may here state that I was called by the Maoris ‘Fish Oh,’ which was the nearest approach they could make to Preshaw. By the diggers I was known as the ‘Banker with the Cabbage-tree Hat.’
“A few days after this, on my return from one of my trips to the Greenstone, I was fortunate enough to come across about three dozen of these birds’ eggs. These I put in my
