The photographer William Collie visited Ngauruhoe about February or March 1878 and again in about December 1878.  

Narrative of Excursions to the Great Volcano.

Mr. Wm. Leys Collie, of Remuera, sends us the following graphic narrative of his visits to the volcano of Ngauruhoe:-

Sir, - I was rather surprised by a telegram of the Press Agency lately, announcing the ascent by a Mr. Manson, from America, of what was described as a volcano new to geographers. The phenomena inside the crater comprised geysers playing up into the air to a height of 500 feet, and Mr. Manson was declared to be the first white man whom the Maoris had permitted to go up the mountain. (It has since been explained that 500 was a mistake of the telegraph for 50.) But later that gentleman has sent a letter to Auckland which discloses that all the tall-talk was about my old friend Ngauruhoe (often called by Europeans Tongariro), photographs of which, from nature, by myself, have been for sale, along with others of the petrified terraces of Rotomahana and the burning crater of White Island, at Messrs. Upton and Co.'s during the last three years.

I would not have paid further attention to this matter had not Mr. Manson in his letter preferred a claim to which he is not entitled. "No other living man is known to have been inside the cone but myself," he writes. In answer to that, and to enable Mr. Manson to moderate his pretensions when he writes to the American papers, I will, Mr. Editor, with your permission, give a brief statement of my two trips to Ngauruhoe, which have not hitherto appeared in print.

The First Ascent.
Upwards of four years ago I had determined to explore Ngauruhoe, notwithstanding that the locality was tabooed. Circumstances delayed the execution of my resolve, and in the meantime Mr. Connelly[1], an artist, made the ascent [in December 1877]. Two or three months afterwards [i.e. about February or March 1878], I and a boy called Ernest Lys started from Napier, passed up through the Patea, hospitably entertained on the way at several of the stations, especially at Birch Bros.' by their gentlemanly manager Mr. Berkley, who did all he could to forward my views. Although threatened with death by Maori chiefs I pushed on, with the addition of a station youth, and ultimately reached the Waihohono Valley [Waihohonu Valley], which stretches down from Ngauruhoe. The morning following my arrival the tent was pitched in a spot at the edge of the bush, sheltered from both observation and the elements. There I camped for weeks, exploring the surrounding region. Ngauruhoe was in full view at the top of the valley — a grand mountain - its dark sides scarred with the torrents that descend from the melting of the winter snows — and puffs of white steam occasionally rising over the top. The solitude of the spot was perfect, the weather fine, and the days spent in wandering up the valleys, climbing the spurs, and descending into the volcanoe [sic] were days of exquisite physical enjoyment. Strange to say, blow-flies were in great numbers around our tent, though some 5000 feet above the sea, and we had to pack up our blankets in waterproof as soon as we got up, generally before sunrise, to prevent their being blown upon. Each evening immediately after sunset we had to get into our tent and into our blankets, the cold at night was so intense in that elevated region. Wherever I had camped before in the wilds, I had always been paid visits by rats, but here not a rat was to be seen, but some mice came and entertained themselves upon our biscuits. Fat wood-hens are to be found in numbers, and can be run down by a dog.

Waihohono Valley.
 [Waihohonu Valley]
The Waihohono Valley [Waihohonu Valley] is traversed by streams which gush out from below a bed of lava extending from the mountain, so that there is always the music of rushing waters, as denoted by the name Waihohono [Waihohonu]. Upon the spurs leading from the mountain have in old times been hidden the bones of the great chiefs among the Maoris of the surrounding territory, and the superstition of spirits might well take hold of any inhabitants of these solitudes. As I lay on the scoria sand at night in the tent upon a pillow of dry grass, my ear resting in close proximity to the ground, I could hear the murmuring, as it were, of a great multitude, and over the general buzz of the crowd of spirits, ever and anon would rise shrill and clear the voice of some spirit calling to his fellows. Verily spiritland is in the valley of the Waihohono [Waihohonu], and night after night the illusion was perfect that I was camped amongst a world of spirits, in that tabooed ground at the foot of Tongariro. One afternoon, taking a stroll up the ravine, between the mountain and old Tongariro, I heard the roaring sound as if of a waterfall. I looked around but could see no signs of falling water, and concluded there might be an echo from the cliffs or something strange.


The Crater.
Two or three days after my arrival in the valley of Waihohono [Waihohonu], upon a beautiful morning, I started with the boy to skirt round the mountain, so as to discover a way of getting up. We got out of the valley and reached a flat at the south side of the mountain, sprinkled over with blocks of dark brown lava, which had hardened into many curious shapes. Beds of low bushes blossoming in tints of brown and orange covered the ground, and were soft and springy to the tread. In the ravines at the base of the mountain alpine wild flowers were growing. Selecting a spur by which to ascend, I experienced enough of hard climbing over blocks of brown lava for half the way up. The sides became steeper and steeper, and looking back, one could not see the way he had come up. 

When about three-quarters up, I encountered loose scoria as well as lava. At the most dangerous place the ridge narrowed, precipices being on each side, and great blocks of lava overhung as if barring the way. These surmounted, I came to a smooth, hard incline, slippery with ice, and getting up this on hands and feet, I reached some soft scoria, apparently near the top of the mountain, which I at last reached, and was rewarded for all the exertion and risk by seeing, as I looked down in front of me, the large crater — its level floor of scoria sand bright with the sunshine, and coloured here and there with the yellows of sulphur, whilst white steam was rising in different directions. A minute after the boy reached my side, and we stood gazing upon the strange scene. At the northern part of the floor of the crater there was a cone of stones, and from its interior the white steam was issuing and waving about. This cone on the floor of the crater explains the character of similar cones that are almost invariably to be seen in the craters of the moon's volcanoes — namely, that when a volcano has spent its greatest forces, as its high sides fall in, a floor is formed, and when any fresh, but weaker, eruption takes place, it simply gets vent at one part of the flooring, where it forms a regular cone of stones, pumice, and scoria. 

As I stood there, with only two or three yards of flat ground as a pedestal, the panorama displayed around me was singularly impressive. The standpoint was above the clouds. A great sea of clouds stretched away from the vicinity of the mountain to the west, far as the eye could reach, and jutting up through the white mass was the top of Mount Egmont, some 80 miles away. In another direction, the woods and plains leading to Whanganui were visible. More to the north, some miles away, Lake Taupo glimmered like an opal with its fairy island. Then looking back towards the valley I had come up, the atmosphere was playing strange freaks. Cloudlets would come into existence near the mountain, and as the sun shone on them, fragments of rainbows would form - flowers of the sky - cloudlets and bows melting away into nothing as I watched them. Masses of mist would gather on the sides of Ngauruhoe, giving warning that the descent should not be delayed. It was useless thinking of skirting the razor edge of the mountain top to find a way of getting down into the crater that day, as by descending at once it would take us all our time to reach camp. So, satisfied with our initial success, I and my little man Friday began our return journey for camp, supper, and a sound sleep.


The Interior. 
Upon another day, I and the station youth started from the foot of the mountain for the interior of the crater, a load of provisions and photographic apparatus upon each of our backs. This time I took another route up, which I found, when too late, to be more dangerous than the former, from the looseness of the scoria and rocks; but, reaching the top safely, I waited for my assistant and we then both skirted the sharp edge at the top, hugging here and there some big rocks that were hanging poised between falling into the crater or rolling down the mountain side. We quickly reached a place by which we descended into the crater, and while the youth sat down to rest, I eagerly started off to spy out the wonders of the place. I first climbed the cone, and on looking down into the interior I saw that the sulphur steam was issuing from the sides, but that the bottom was closed and had the appearance of not having been disturbed for several years, coinciding with the time at which eruptions had been visible from below. 

The cone was about 100 feet deep, and the sides were soft with the constant heat and stained with sulphur. I wandered about the floor of the crater, and had simply to avoid the sulphur fumes blowing out of different holes and crevices, and forming crystals of bright yellow sulphur. In one spot the fumes were rising in a large ring round a central point, sulphur steam was also issuing in different parts upon the sides of the crater, which rose some 200 feet above us, and were tinted of a burnt-red or a sulphur yellow, giving evidence of great heat in former times. Whether Mr. Connelly had been inside the crater I could not say, but I examined every foot of the floor of the crater, and I could not see the vestige of anything to show that a human being had been there before, and I found that the tinted mosses and lichens, so glowingly described by Mr. Connelly, had no existence. There was not a particle of vegetation anywhere. If Mr. Connelly did enter the crater, he was the first white man to do so, and I was the second, with my servant. So much for Mr. Manson and his visit three years later.


The Second Ascent. 
Nine months after my ascent [i. e. about December 1878], I again left civilization for Ngauruhoe with the same boy, making as swift and secret a march there as possible. Arriving at the foot of the mountain we slept there overnight. Next day was windy, and the thundering reports made by rocks every now and then rolling down the precipices, warned us not to ascend that day. The following morning brought my usually fortunate weather, fine and sunny, so I and the boy managed to get up the mountain. But as we reached the top both agreed that the ascent gave us a greater impression of danger each time. On looking down into the crater I saw a great change at the place where the cone had been. It had entirely disappeared, but at that side of the floor of the crater there was an entirely new cone, and much larger. A considerable piece of the precipice over which we were standing had also fallen down into the crater, I presume by vibration from the shocks of eruption, if not from the softening effect of snow thaws. Skirting the mountain's sharp edge we got down, this being the first, time that the boy had been inside. 

A fine mahogany camera had been left in the crater all winter, and I was curious to see whether it was safe still. I came upon it completely spoiled, not from the weather, but the nearest sulphur, fumes had blown round a rock to that direction, corroded all the metal work, wrecked the wood, and stained, irremedially, even the ground glass. A bagful of biscuit had also suffered, the biscuits being soft and bitter from the sulphur. I wrote upon the camera memoranda of my several ascents and visits to the crater, and it is rather singular that Mr. Manson makes no mention of seeing these and other remains, such as meat tins, only two years afterwards. I measured, by stepping, the circumference of the cone, and found it to be about 500 feet at the top. The crater itself, I calculated to be some 1500 feet across. It being the month of December, there were two masses of hard snow, 18 inches thick, on the scoria floor, and under the fallen portion of the precipice there was a great mass of snow, which the heat was melting from beneath, and had already formed into a pretty cave that looked as if it were formed out of white marble. 

I and the boy had brought a waterproof bag each, and when night came on we got into these and lay on the ground, which must have been only a very thin crust over a great abyss, for it sounded quite hollow under our tread. Awaking between four and five in the morning, I felt that the moisture of the body had congealed on the waterproof with the intense cold of the night air, and the effect was as if we were chilled to the very bone. Getting up at once, we ran about the crater with only poor success in getting warm, and when we mustered to breakfast we took it standing, the cold was so bitter. Breakfast consisted of the last of our provisions, namely, a small tin of Bruce of Aberdeen's delicious mutton, heated over a steam-hole, two biscuits soaked overnight in the snow-water, and last, but not least, a small bottle of whisky, the gift of a flockmaster's lady for any emergency. Do not be startled, oh, teetotal reader! we finished the bottle, for the whisky went down the throats of myself and the boy as if it had been milk, and under the circumstances was far more refreshing.

I have already trespassed, Mr. Editor, too much upon your space, and will conclude these random sketches of trips made two and three years before Mr. Manson had the opportunity of executing a flourish of trumpets.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XIX, Issue 6320, 18 February 1882, Page 6

 Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume XXI, Issue 5355, 14 April 1879, Page 3

In 1887 some travelers while at Rangitiki met a young man, possibly Frederick Ernest Lys, who nine years earlier had accompanied Collie on his ascent of Ngauruhoe:

Tarawera was reached at noon, and the Rangitiki by night-fall. Here the adventurers had their appetite sated. A  young man who had been guide with Colley [sic] the photographer, when he made the ascent of Ngauruhoe, and had his photographic apparatus and plates taken from him by the natives, was staying in the house, and he told of the wonders, of the little known region, in such a manner as to make the travellers determine at once to try to see them.
Daily Telegraph, Issue 4858, 7 March 1887, Page 2 

Transactions and Proceedings of the Royal Society of New Zealand 1868-1961
Volume 12, 1879 - pages 418-420

Art. LXIX.— Remarks on Volcanoes and Geysers of New Zealand.

By W. Collie.

[Read before the Wellington Philosophical Society, 14th June, 1879.]

In the pleasant, if sometimes arduous, pursuit of art-photography, the writer camped for weeks close to the main volcanoes and geysers of the colony, enjoying excellent opportunities for search into the origin and working of these marvellous and attractive exhibitions of nature's powers. And viewing the existence, or it might be termed life, of the earth in its present state for at least thousands of years, the question naturally arose to the wayfarer of to-day amongst these interesting scenes:—“Whence the activity which still pours forth the boiling waters of Rotomahana to run glistening down the silica terraces of their own constant formation—wherein the force that lights the red fires which burn ever in the crater of White Island—or what the motive power that still throws up a cone in the crater of Tongariro (Ngauruhoe)?"

The reply from the waters of Rotomahana, from the fires of White Island, and from the cone of Tongariro was the same—the one word, “Sulphur.” Whether the almost universally imagined heat of the interior of the earth has any existence in fact does not materially affect the subject; for it was enough to the observer that sulphur in its natural state lay beneath the crust of the earth in beds of greater or less extent, being self-combustible when heated and moist, smouldering for long years—burning near the surface sufficient to melt the rocks and throw them out as lava and pumice amidst fire and smoke, and with reports like cannon—or heating the internal waters which came into contact with it, and forcing them up as minerally impregnated geysers, or as sulphurous steam. It was easy to follow out the idea and conceive how these inflammably begot forces, confined in the interior and unable to escape, have raised the land into mountain-masses; or, as the material consumed, have caused the crust of the earth, sometimes gradually, at other times violently, to sink into the empty caverns. Hence earthquakes but wait upon the sulphur fires below, and attest their wide-spread power. Whether at boiling cauldron or bursting crater the only inflammable or explosive substance to be seen is Sulphur, and the only effect observable is that from its fire. Steaming basins, smoking craters, and destroying earthquakes, it may be safely assumed, never occur without the presence of Sulphur as the good or evil genius of the phenomena.

Rotomahana.— During the writer's stay at the Terraces he was favoured with an exhibition of the subsidence of the waters of Te Tarata into the caverns below; and as the Terraces on that occasion got dry, it was noteworthy how brittle the silicious surface became, showing upon what a slender thread the beauties of that mountain side hang; for, were the flow of the blue waters to stop, as stop it must when the energies of the forces below exhaust themselves, the glory as well as the cause of Rotomahana will disappear.

Tongariro (Ngauruhoe).— When the writer visited the crater of Tongariro in May of last year, there was a cone on the north-west side of it. This cone was about 120 feet wide at the top, and was closed at the bottom as if the volcano had not been in action for a considerable time. Upon the writer's climbing the mountain (a feat always attended with difficulty and risk) and descending into the crater, in December following, he found that the above cone had completely vanished, and that along the greater part of the north side of the crater another cone, about 500 feet wide at the top, had been violently thrown up. In the interior of this cone, at the bottom, there were two openings opposite each other, out of which sulphurous steam was blown in considerable quantities. The outside of the cone was of loose material, as might be expected from its recent deposition, and was composed of stones, pumice, cinders, and debris of the mountain.

It is thus evident that this volcano is still active, although at uncertain periods. Over the floor of the crater, and up aloft, along the sides, as well as outside the mountain, sulphur-steam was issuing in all directions, tinging the orifices with yellow crystals of sulphur. The whole crater of Tongariro might be 1500 feet wide. The loose burnt sides, overhanging the floor, are gradually falling down, altering the configuration of the summit of the mountain. Upon the floor of the crater there were several thick patches of hardened snow; and at the north side, under the cliffs, a large wreath of snow, melting from the heat beneath, formed a singular-looking cavern with a scalloped roof, as of white marble. The writer spent a night inside the crater, and found the air intensely cold till the sun rose high enough in the morning to shine into the crater. Astronomers, in scanning the volcanoes of the moon, have noticed about the middle of the floor of certain craters a small cone, giving rise to speculation about its cause. Does not Tongariro afford explanation—that, as the volcanic forces exhaust themselves, they give vent to their expiring fires by a small cone.

White Island.— It is generally supposed that the vapours arising from White Island are steam from geysers; whereas, sulphurous steam never rises to any height. The main forces of the grand display at the “Theatre of Nature” upon White Island, are burning beds of sulphur, which show their red fires at night across the lake, whilst the fumes rise up into the air in volumes, to spread there at a great height, like a balloon, or to flow away in a train over the sea before the breeze.

American born sculptor Pierce Frances Connelly 1841-1932.
Mr P. F. Connelly, an eminent sculptor and landscape painter, of Florence, whose beautiful statue, "The Spirit of Peace," was placed in the Auckland Art Gallery recently, was some years ago a resident of New Zealand. In 1877 he visited Auckland, and was for some time the guest of Sir John Logan Campbell. He was greatly interested in the scenery around Auckland, and at the annual exhibition of the Auckland Art Society, in November, 1877, he was a prominent exhibitor.

In the following month he made the first ascent on record of Tongariro and Ngaruahoe [sic]. He travelled from Hamilton to Pirengia, and thence proceeded to the mountain country. Tongariro was at that time tapu, or sacred, to the Maoris, and he was captured by the natives and robbed of his horses, gun and sketches. He managed to make, the ascent, and afterwards found his way down to Taupo.
Star, Issue 9423, 23 December 1908, Page 3

Mr Connelly, artist, has laid an information before the Resident Magistrate at Taupo, against Hiutahi, the native who robbed him of his sketches and baggage.
Auckland Star, Volume VIII, Issue 2421, 24 December 1877, Page 2

A few days since were published telegrams from Taupo, stating" that Mr P. F. Connelly, the eminent sculptor, had come into somewhat unpleasant contact with the Maoris, who took his horses and luggage from him while travelling in the Lake District.
Wanganui Herald, Volume XII, Issue 3011, 26 December 1877, Page 2

WOODHOUSE, Airini Elizabeth

Airini Elizabeth Woodhouse
 born 8 November 1896
died 13 April 1989

 A. E. Woodhouse
Pictorial New Zealand - Photographic Studies
Whitcombe & Tomes Ltd
about 1944

 A. E. Woodhouse
Pictorial New Zealand - Photographic Studies
Whitcombe & Tomes Ltd
about 1944


The Official Ebenezer Teichelmann Blog

Dr Teichelmann returned from his southern trip last evening. The holiday was a most delightful one, being an exploration of the upper reaches of the Callery. Messrs Woodham, Graham and Stonor are engaged prospecting for payable quartz reefs in that locality and the doctor was enabled to avail himself of their camps and their companionship. He took his camera with him and succeeded, in getting a number of beautiful and interesting photographs.

The Callery, Spencer and Burton glaciers were explored and Mount Elie de Beaumont ascended to about 9000 ft, or within 1000ft or so of the summit. In the valley and watershed of the Callery the huge mass of Elie de Beaumont overshadows everything, even Cook being shut out from view. It has not yet been ascended but the doctor does not think the task would be difficult from the nearest point they reached, the only thing necessary being provision for a camp at the rock limit. From there a journey to the top and back could be made in a day. The doctor experienced fine weather all the time and though the incessant climbing I was very tiring he enjoyed himself immensely and returned in the pink of condition.

West Coast Times, Issue 11220, 18 February 1899

Dr Teichelmann, with guides Clarke and Graham, completed a successful exploration of the new alpine pass discovered by the doctor last year between Mount Haast and Gray Peak in South Westland, covering the distance from the Tasman Glacier to Camp Chancel, Westland, in sixteen hours. Fair weather was experienced for mountaineering during the journey which proved most enjoyable. The doctor secured a number of photographs along the route he traversed.
Greymouth Evening Star, 18 February 1904

Noted Mountaineer
Dr. E. Teichelmann
Death At Hokitika 

New Zealand has lost one of her noted mountaineers through the death of Dr. Ebenezer Teichelmann, F.R.C.S., M.R.C.S. (Eng.), L.R.C.P. (Ireland). Associate of Mason's Science College (Birmingham). He died at Hokitika yesterday.

Dr. Teichelmann was surgeon superintendent of the Westland Hospital for about twenty years, but retired eighteen years ago. He was widely known in New Zealand because of his mountaineering work and was in Wellington for the last annual dinner of the New Zealand Alpine Club.

Dr. Teichelmann was born in South Australia in 1859. He was educated at Hahndorf College, at Adelaide University, and at Queen's and Mason's Colleges, Birmingham, England. He also studied at St Bartholomew's Hospital, London, and at hospitals in Dublin. Ireland. For a time he acted as demonstrator of physiology at Mason's College, was assistant physician and resident pathologist at the General Hospital, Birmingham, assistant surgeon at the Jaffray Suburban Hospital, resident medical officer of the Birmingham Workhouse, and later spent two years in private practice in England. Upon returning to Australia he was health' officer at Port Adelaide for two years. He came to New Zealand in 1897 to accept the position of superintendent of the Westland Hospital.

At the outbreak of war in 1914 Dr. Teichelmann, although he had difficulty in obtaining a position with the Forces because of his German ancestry on his father's side, secured a commission in the New Zealand Medical Corps with the rank of captain. He served overseas from 1914 until 1917, and was one of the survivors of the troopship Marquette which was torpedoed in the Aegean Sea.
Exploring and Climbing.

Many contributions to mountaineering in New Zealand were made by Dr. Teichelmann. He first became interested in climbing through engaging in prospecting for gold up the Kellery River, but as soon as he v commenced mountaineering he followed what was to be his lifelong hobby with enthusiasm. Although he was a small, spare man, he proved a capable climber and was nominated and elected a member of the Alpine Club (London) in 1903.

He came into prominence through carrying out some noted exploration work in the headwaters of the Wanganui, where he climbed a number of peaks. He also did a good deal of exploring at the head of the Cook River, but the pioneering work had been done there before his time. From the time he was elected to the Alpine Club until he went overseas with the New Zealand Expeditionary Forces he made many ascents, several being first ascents, and a monument to the part he played in New Zealand mountaineering will always remain in Mount Teichelmann (10,370 ft) in the Southern Alps, which was named after him.

Dr. Teichelmann was the first to climb some of the peaks at the head of the Cook River from the westward. and he was the first to cross the Harper Saddle from the west, making the crossing some years after Mr. A. P. Harper, Karori, Wellington, had given the saddle its name.

Dr. Teichelmann also crossed Baker's Saddle from the Hooker Glacier to the Copeland River, and made the' first crossing (in 1904) of Pioneer Pass from the Fox Glacier to the Tasman Glacier. Others of his notable climbing feats included the ascents of Mount Cook, Douglas Peak, Mount Spencer. Mount Green, and La Perouse Call 10,000 ft or over). His principal climbing companions were the Rev. H E. Newton (A.C.) and Mr. Alex Graham (guide).

Dr. Teichelmann was a member of the New Zealand Alpine Club for many years, and was a valued member of the executive. He was president of the club in 1936 and 1937.   
Evening Post, Volume CXXVI, Issue 149, 21 December 1938, Page 14

Hand Coloured


Ida Jane Vaniman

An American Woman's Impressions of New Zealand.

(by Ida L. Vaniman in Christchurch "Press.")   

To the traveller who desires a comprehensive idea of the natural wonders and beauties of the world, and who has neither time, money, nor patience to make an extensive tour, New Zealand is a perfect Mecca. 'Bounteous Nature loves all lands,' but while she has given to each country some characteristic or peculiar charm of scenery, she has lavished upon New Zealand all her varied forms, so that within its small area of one hundred thousand square miles, one finds a reproduction of all the wonders and beauties for which other parts of the world are famous. The picturesque ness of the Rhine, the beauty of the fiords of Norway, the charm of the Alps, the scenery of the lakes of Switzerland, all are here in counterpart. Snowcapped mountain peaks, grand canyons and fruitful valleys, coal-beds, goldfields, mineral waters, hot springs, and geysers, that, if equalled, are not excelled by those of the interior of Japan or Yellowstone Park in America. Besides all this, New Zealand boasts the highest waterfall in the world, which originates in huge glaciers high above the clouds, and in falling gains such destructive force that Nature has provided for its reception a basin of solid granite.

To many the most attractive feature in this cyclorama of world's wonders is the geyser district of the North Island, where Nature's work is not yet finished, and she seems to have summoned all her forces and bidden them hasten the work of completion. For day and night you can hear the roaring and rumbling as of a mighty engine, and the thin crust of pumice on which you stand trembles with it vibrations. Here and there from the escape-valves, great streams of hot water shoot hundreds of feet into the air. More than seventeen miles away, over intervening mountain ranges, the steam issuing from Waimangu is plainly seen rising to meet the clouds. Large pools of boiling mud, white, or pink, or ugly black, are simmering and thickening to the proper consistency for earth's crust. Immense cauldrons of boiling water containing carbonates and bicarbonates of soda and of potash, sulphuretted hydrogen, and sulphuric and hydrochloric acids, over flow into the riverbed, the waste pipe of the region. So far man has analysed all Nature's products and harnessed her forces to do his bidding, but, standing in the midst of all this waste of well known chemicals, one wonders if perhaps Dame Nature is concocting some new and wonderful combination that shall puzzle man's brain in future days.

This crude state of Nature lends quite naturally to the study of primitive man, and to one who cares for the subject the whole district is like an open book of legendary and historic records of the early Maori inhabitants. Every stream and geyser and mountain, in its unpronounceable native name, holds the key to an interesting chapter, which may be amusing, or pathetic, or horrible, in turn. If one prefers to illustrate the story with living characters, large numbers of Maoris are still to be soon living in this country, where Nature has so lavishly contributed to their needs. Their simple meals are cooked in hot steam issuing from holes in the ground. Their laundry-work is done in a pool of boiling water not far from the "steam cooker,"' and their bathroom is a similar pool nearby, besides which the costly furnishings, the beauty and conveniences of a marble bath in the modern mansion, pale into insignificance in comparison with the one luxurious essential to the perfect bath which the Maori enjoys — water, that continually bubbles out of the ground at exactly the right temperature, so delightful, so invigorating, and so rich in curative chemicals, one feels that Ponce do Leon might still be living had he searched New Zealand for the Fountain of Youth.

Near the centre of this "hot region" is Lake Rotorua, with its unfathomable depths of clear, cold water, covering an area of 20,000 acres. Almost in the middle of the lake is an island called Mokoia, while all around the outer edge are little pools of water and mud boiling furiously, and some of the finest hot mineral springs of the whole thermal district. On the southern shore of this lake the New Zealand Government has a reservation of some fifty acres, where they have built, a sanatorium, utilising the waters of most beneficial properties for baths. The natural growth of native bush has been preserved in the grounds, which are beautifully laid out. The flower gardens are a unique and most attractive feature in this region of hot steam and sulphur vapor. Here in February, that month suggestive of raw, piercing kinds and grey skies, one sees blossoming at the same time all the flowers soon each in its turn throughout the year in a temperate clime. Magnificent roses of every variety, stately dahlias, delicate lilies, graceful cosmos, smiling-faced pansies, migonette, beautiful carnations, and many blossoms seen elsewhere only in hot-houses, all contribute their beauty and fragrance to make this a place of delight to the hundreds of people who visit the Wonderland yearly.

But the beauty is not all outside the Sanatorium buildings, and is, of course, of but minor interest to those who come to be benefited by the baths. On entering the Duchess Bath your eye rests on every luxury conductive to comfort and pleasure. A lovely bath, with cold shower, and hot douche, and a dainty dressing-room, with furniture made of the handsome New Zealand woods. The water for this bath is from the famous Madam Rachael spring, which boils out of the ground at a temperature of 180 deg., and at the rate of 50,000 gallons daily. The delightful velvety feeling this water imparts to the skin soon converts one to a belief in the popular tradition concerning its power to make people beautiful. Then there is the Rachael Pavilion, with a large number of private baths, with cold showers, and douches, with dressing-rooms and a cosy lounging room constantly kept at a temperature of 70 deg. There are two large swimming baths, one for men and one for women, quite like a plunge at the beach, for the water is warm, and their only roof is the blue sky above and the overhanging branches of trees that dare to peep. But most inviting of all is the Blue Swimming Bath. It is not heaven's reflected blue, nor the blue of the deep sea, but a cooling, sparkling, transparent looking blue, that you will find nowhere else in all the world outside of Nature's chemist shop. At various parts of the grounds are other baths, each noted for some peculiar property which gains for it its quota of admirers. There is a commodious cottage for invalids, and a doctor, appointed by the Government, to look after those who require his advice and attention. These waters effect marvellous cures every year, and all who go away benefited speak with greatest enthusiasm of the place, which in a few years is sure to be the sanatorium for all Australasia.

Of the four largest cities in New Zealand, each has an individual charm, that, to its loyal citizens, easily places it in advance of the other three. Christchurch, the "City of the Plains," was originally a Church of England settlement, and is conceded by all to be very English in every respect. It has its Cathedral-square, a good Art Gallery, and the finest museum in the colony. The beautiful little river Avon winds its way through the heart of the city, giving additional beauty to the fine park in which the Christchurch Museum stands, and lending its charm to the grounds of a splendid hospital. Like a broad avenue, its grassy banks form a continuous park through the city, where one may lounge beneath over hanging willows and watch the trout hiding in dark shadows of picturesque stone bridges that span its waters.

Dunedin, as its name suggests, is the home of the "cannny Scot." The abundance of building stone in its immediate vicinity has been used in all the buildings, giving the city an appearance of solid stability, in harmony with the character of its inhabitants. Their sturdy, religious nature has found expression in churches whose architectural beauty is not equalled in any of the colonies. The city is built on gently sloping hills overlooking the bay and as vast expanse of ocean in the distance.

Auckland, the oldest and most northerly city, claims the most beautiful harbor, the most magnificent surrounding scenery, the mildest climate, and, with its many picturesque suburbs, the greatest population.

But Wellington, the capital of the colony, is, perhaps, the most interesting of all, in that it is the most essentially characteristic of the people and affairs colonial. Here the seat of Government is located, and the headquarters of all departments administering to the general welfare of the colony. It is through the executive ability of these bodies that one learns to admire the colonial spirit of progress and patriotism. In this   place, thousands of miles from the large seaport cities of the world, is to be found a harbor with the most perfect wharfage facilities and modern appliances for loading and unloading vessels in the Southern Hemisphere. The Athenic, a vessel of 12,000 tons capacity, is now in port loading a cargo for Liverpool, the largest item of which is 100,000 carcasses of frozen mutton. This colony exports annually about two million frozen carcasses of sheep, and in the rabbit season a special train is run daily from the rural districts whence "bunny" is brought to the freezing works, and also shipped to the land the colonies sneaks of as "Home.”

The Daily News (Perth, WA), 6 August 1902 page 2.
Jago Photographs