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OF FURRED AND FEATHERED FOES IN NEW COUNTRIES.

"Take us the foxes-the little foxes-that spoil the grapes."

SUPPOSE that no one who has always lived at home can fully realise the strange thrill of delight, born of old association, when suddenly, in some far-distant land, the familiar note of a bird— the scent of a flower-the strain of some old melody-arrests the wanderer, and in a moment carries his thoughts far away across stormy seas, to the beloved home, where perhaps, even then, dear ones are thinking of him, and of the happy day that shall bring him back to them.

Such a flood of old memories came to me when, on landing in New Zealand after a long residence in the tropics, my ear was gladdened by the most musical note in all bird harmonies, the lovely warble of our own common sky-lark. I had been living so long in Fiji, where the word grass generally means tall reeds, meeting far overhead, that the mere fact of walking over short meadow-grass was charming, and it was a real pleasure to stroll to my host's dairy farm, following a path which led over swelling pasture-land, just like Sussex downs, with sheep and cattle feeding peacefully.

We passed through lovely, quiet glades, running through a belt of true old New Zealand bush, most carefully preserved by the owner, Sir George Grey. But in these grassy glades we saw a large number of most interesting creatures, imported by him from other countries, and so perfectly acclimatised to this new home, that they seem to increase and multiply more rapidly than in the lands where they were indigenous.

The most remarkable of these imported creatures are the lovely little tree-kangaroos, which are only found in New Guinea. One pair was brought thence by the captain of a vessel, from whom Sir George purchased them, and turned them loose, as he does every sort of animal, from north, south, east, and west, on his beautiful island home of Kawau. Two or three years elapsed, and he never At Home in Fiji, by C, F. Gordon-Cumming. Blackwood & Sons.

caught a glimpse of these little beauties, and feared they had perished-when, to his delight, first one and then another, and another, appeared, frolicking all about the woods. Now they have multiplied to such an extent, that many have to be killed every year.

They are small animals, as beautiful as they are rare, with the richest brown fur; and, when feeding on the meadow-grass, you would naturally mistake them for hares; but, at the faintest sound, they sit upright, and, standing on their long hind-legs, they bound away with a succession of leaps, and re-appear, springing from bough to bough, and peering cautiously from among the dark foliage or the flaming blossoms of the Pohutakawa-(a Maori name, meaning the brine-sprinkled-because the magnificent tree which bears it loves to out-stretch its wide arms over the salt sea).

The English settlers call it the Christmas tree,' because it invariably blossoms at Christmas-tide, and boughs of its scarlet flowers take the place of holly in church decorations. When in its prime, each tree is one sheet of glowing scarlet, and the effect of its flamecoloured branches overhanging the bright blue water, and dripping showers of fiery stamens in the sea, or on the grass, is positively dazzling.

But to return to the living creatures, now so abundant in a land which so recently possessed no four-footed beasts of any sort except a small rat, which was the only quadruped indigenous in New Zealand or Fiji. Some of the other South Sea Isles possessed an ugly little native dog, and a lanky breed of pigs; but New Zealand had only a rat, which, strange to say, has died out before the arrival of the large Norwegian rat, which came uninvited with its numerous relations, taking a free passage by too many of the European ships.

Now, on the island of Kawau (which lies about twenty miles from Auckland, on the North Isle of New Zealand) we saw not only a multitude of common kangaroos, or wallabies, as they are called in Australia-their native land; but also herds of Indian elk, fallow deer, and red deer; wild cattle, and wild pigs, all of which are descended from specimens brought here by Sir George Grey, not very many years ago.

The gentlemen of our party enjoyed some pleasant days of pheasant-shooting, and cf stalking larger game; but they agreed that shooting wallabies was beneath the dignity of true sportsmen, for they were so very deliberate in their strange leaping retreat, and habit of frequently pausing to look back wistfully at the cruel biped who came to molest them.

1 Metrosideros tomentosa.

Among the many interesting features of this pleasant island home is the fact that here-as in a haven of refuge-there still exist specimens of the weka, one of the wingless birds peculiar to New Zealand; while among the house treasures there is a skeleton of the great extinct Moa, which is like a gigantic ostrich.

The island is really a paradise of acclimatisation. Every sort of tree and plant has been introduced by Sir George; while all native plants have been carefully preserved, and already it is difficult to guess what is indigenous and what imported. You wander through a belt of dark forest, through thickets of luxuriant tree ferns, some of which have tall straight stems, fully thirty feet high, bearing the crown of beautiful leaves from twelve to fifteen feet in length, while other green gullies are over-shadowed by a canopy of green fronds which, on the under-side, gleam like silver.

Imagine the delight of losing yourself in such a dream of loveliness, and perhaps coming suddenly on a thicket of figs or peaches, loaded with ripe fruit! These are imported, but grow luxuriantly wherever they are planted. So do orange trees and mulberries, apples, pears, and apricots; and the delight of Sir George has been to plant all manner of fruit-bearing trees, in unexpected places, for the benefit of all his people. Happy people they are, and well they may be, with so kind a master.

Amongst the delightful reminders of home, I came on a sparkling brook, where fresh green water-cress looked up invitingly, and when I had feasted on this, I wandered across the meadows, scarcely yet realizing with what infinite toil and care the New Zealand scrub had been eradicated, and that smooth English turf induced to grow.

This obstinate shrub, which the Maoris call Manakau, resembles gigantic heather or juniper, in that its foliage consists of tiny needles, though its delicate white blossom rather resembles myrtle. It grows in dense thickets, and spreads so rapidly as to cause endless trouble to the settlers, who endeavour to convert the hillsides into such pleasant slopes of English grass as those which here appeared to me so perfectly natural.

I wandered on till I came to a bank, clothed with large tufts of handsome green flags, with tall spikes of scarlet blossom, fully ten feet in height. This I knew to be the precious New Zealand flax, ' the long leaves of which are nature's ready-made cords and straps— so strong is the fibre, and so readily do the leaves split into the narrowest strips. Valuable as it is to the inhabitants of its native 1 Phormium tenax,

country, it is not a profitable article of commerce, in consequence of the coating of strong glutinous resin which covers the base of every leaf, and has hitherto, I understand, defied all the ingenuity of those who have endeavoured to apply machinery to its manufacture.

Below this bank of wild flax, the calm blue sea rippled upon the white sands of a little bay, enclosed on either side by low rocks, over-shadowed by the wide-spreading boughs of the beautiful flamecoloured Christmas-tree, which literally dip into the sea. Both the branches and the rocks are coated with delicious little oysters, and I plead guilty to having soon acquired a taste which at first seemed to me nearly as horrible as the South Sea custom of eating small fish alive-namely, knocking off the oysters with a sharp stone, and feasting on them, while we sat among the rock-pools beneath the beautiful trees. They are of excellent flavour, and we constantly indulged in feasts which any epicure might have envied; and certainly there was no need for any one to stint his allowance, as the little isle of which I speak has a coast-line of thirty miles-along which lie a succession of oyster-beds-so the supply always exceeded the demand.

Just above the flax bank, a yellow sandstone cliff rises sheer from the sea. Green grass and scattered pines now crown its summit; but in the old Maori days it was a noted Pah, or place of defence, where tattooed warriors fought to the death. Those on this island were noted pirates, and at last the neighbouring tribes on the mainland united to destroy them. Now all is very peaceful, and only a deep ditch running round the headland on the land side, suggests the stories of olden days, and of the blood here shed.

I have lain for hours on the smooth turf, on the brink of that high cliff, looking down into a sea so clear, that I could watch the white-breasted cormorants (the Kawau, from which the island takes its name) dive for fish, and swim after them under water, for ever so far. And overhead, as if rejoicing in the exquisite purity of the bright, bracing atmosphere, warbled a busy crowd of larks'-the joyous singers who gave me such thrilling welcome on the day of my arrival.

No wonder the early settlers longed to hear those sweet voices, when, in the old days of slow travelling, England and home seemed to them, in truth, a land very far off. So the caged larks were imported and set free, and found a new world so congenial, that now the whole air is musical with their lovely rippling warblings.

But these new island worlds have by no means reason to be

equally gratified by the success of all experiments in acclimatisation. In far too many instances, the plants and the creatures so carefully introduced have increased and multiplied at so alarming a rate as already to call forth vigorous, but unavailing, efforts for their repression.

For instance that water-cress which I gathered with such delight from the sparkling brook at Kawau, has proved anything but a boon to the Southern Provinces, where what was originally so carefully planted in the streams, has spread in such dense masses as literally to obstruct the course of rivers, and choke their mouths. In Otago and Canterbury Provinces, destructive floods, which have resulted in loss of life and property, are attributed solely to the increase of this simple plant; and thousands of pounds are annually expended in the effort to check its too luxuriant growth.

The innocent daisy, round which weary, toil-worn men assembled in almost tearful homage, does not seem to have done any damage; but the tall purple thistle, which was brought to New Zealand by a too zealous Scot, now runs riot over the land. I saw it growing in thickets on the waste lands near Auckland; and though some enthusiasts maintained that it was doing good work in preparing the soil for more remunerative crops, I think the farmers would certainly have preferred its absence.

Certainly those of Australia do not attempt to conceal their dismay at its extraordinary increase. It is barely a quarter of a century since the very first thistle was imported to Australia and landed safely at Port Philip. Every Scotchman in Victoria made pilgrimage to the capital, to have a look at the old familiar emblem and dream of home. A great public dinner was given in its honour, and the precious plant occupied the post of honour on the table. Many were the speeches made and toasts drunk on the occasion, and the enthusiasm knew no bounds. Afterwards this thistle was carefully planted in its new kingdom, and right royal has been its rule. Never was conquered country held with a firmer grip. The stately thistle proved so prolific in the congenial soil and kindly climate that now thousands of acres of the farmer's best land are completely cropped with thistles, and no efforts can by any possibility eradicate this pest. Thousands and tens of thousands of pounds have been expended on carrying out various schemes for its extermination, but the hardy invader laughs at them all, and blooms as fresh and fair as ever it did on its own native soil; indeed, it is a much stronger and handsomer plant than were its Scottish

ancestors.

Another plant, which in all these isles has taken a too vigorous

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