at the ridiculous figure we cut as I was: however, it answered the required purpose famously, and as there was nobody else to laugh at us, I did not care. As we went on, the land became more and more barren and level, till it became a mere moor, without a shrub, and almost without vegetation; a few bushes of the miserable-looking Dracophyllum being all that occurred to break the monotony of the plain. I discovered here an extraordinary Composite little plant, so small that I took it for a lichen; it grew in flat hard grey patches, and did not rise higher than a quarter of an inch; the patches were in general winding, and I am convinced the sharpest-eyed botanist would have at first mistaken them as I did. I afterwards found another but larger specimen of the same plant, growing near the limits of snow, on the mountains.
As we approached the Waikato, the grass began to improve, especially when we left the plains and entered the narrow valleys, in some of which it was equal, if not superior, to any of the best forest-lands of New South Wales. One plant also of the dandelion family became very abundant, and, I think, would be an acquisition to any pastures even at home, as it would be in perfection in that part of the summer when most grasses are withered. It has narrow grass-like leaves, which grow in thick upright tufts—not spreading, like most plants of the family. Its taste was equal to lettuce. We crossed a large river within about a mile of its junction with the Waikato. It was above thirty yards wide, and about five feet deep. Immediately on leaving its banks, the road passed through a narrow valley, at the other end of which was a remarkable rock, which, the natives said, was formerly a very strong Pa. It appeared as if an immense mass, almost as square as a die, had been pitched from a distance on the top of a small hill, into which one of its corners had stuck. How it came there must be left to conjecture, for it does not appear
