in the dark, and toilsome climb up the steep hill, we were silent and reflective—for the spell of the wonders we had been privileged to behold was still deep upon us—and even the most unthinking of our party were calmed into quietude by the near remembrance of the visions of this ever-memorable day.
As if Nature were determined to leave out no element of the weird wonders of her working in this region of mystery and marvel, we were visited again, after we had retired for the night, with a succession of earthquakes. There was a mighty tremor and shaking, as if of some chained giant beneath, turning uneasily in his sleep.
The pale, cold moon had climbed the vault of night, and looked down serenely upon the turbulent desolation of this region of fire and vaporous turmoil; and as I resought my pillow my feelings were again those of the Psalmist: "What is man, that Thou art mindful of him?" "Wonderful are Thy works, Almighty God. The whole earth is full of Thy wonders."
Next day, being Sunday, was devoted to quiet rest and curious observation of the many quaint phases of native life in the village. Wairoa is the site of an old mission, and there is a picturesque little church and a parsonage close by. Morning service was held in the church, and we noted the English hedges and trees, the mischievous briars, and myriads of tiny wild strawberry plants growing all around in rich luxuriance, evidence of the efforts of the early missionaries to bestow not only
