are curiously intermittent in character, and according to all accounts are, on the whole, less active than formerly.
Two of the baths here deserve mention. One called the oil-bath has water so oily as hardly to adhere to the skin enough to make a towel necessary on coming out; the other is a very warm creek opening out into a fast-flowing river of cold water, and affording the most delightful gradations of temperature between the two. All the pools have their distinctive character: some are very active, others sullen; some pretty, bubbling, shallow basins, others dark deep blue of endless depth; some bright and clear as crystal, others milky, or of mud of various consistency; some blowing off steam like fifty steam-engines, and many, alas! very many, smelling beyond the power of words to describe. It is curious how quickly one gets accustomed to the ceaseless sound of boiling water, or the dull, soughing sound of boiling mud that one hears on all sides, often without being able to see the hole whence it comes.
In the evening the natives treated us to a haka, or dance, in honor of the Governor. It took place in the carved house I have already spoken of, the weird, grotesque carvings of which added to the strangeness of the scene. There were about a hundred dancers ranged in five rows, the front one consisting of about twenty young women gorgeously apparelled in tight-fitting red or white calico bodices, and flaming-colored rugs worn like kilts. When the Governor entered they greeted him with the most awful noise, shouting, yelling, laughing, and in some diabolical way imitating the noise of the beating of tin cans, the barking of dogs, and rapid hand-clapping. From one or two of the specimens that were translated to us, it was as well, perhaps, that their shouts of welcome were expressed in Maori language. The young women certainly seemed to enjoy, and to make the most of, the opportunity for saying naughty things. The dance lasted about an hour; it was curious, and as a novelty amusing, but rather monotonous. There was but little movement of their feet; it consisted chiefly of swaying their bodies and arms about, going down on their knees, imitating rowing and gathering crops, slapping their own legs and then their neighbors'. The men then took the place of the women, and went through very similar performances. The whole dance was accompanied by a noise that would have put pandemonium to shame; it sounded like a mixture of beating of trays, dogs fighting, gigantic snoring, and a very full, deep bass rumbling in the throat. At times there seemed to be a kind of rhythmic song, interspersed with yells and short, sharp cries of "Hue, hue!" "Ha, ha!" "Pakeka!" The young women winked and grinned and twisted about beyond what was strictly correct; but they seemed to enjoy the really hard work of the dance most thoroughly. There was always a chief running up and down, dancing, and declaiming in the foreground, bidding defiance to all the world apparently, but in reality, I believe,
