they generally get an escape from drowning or two, or else they get
drowned in earnest. After one or two escapes their original respect for
the rivers returns, and for ever after they learn not to play any
unnecessary tricks with them. Not a year passes but what each of them
sends one or more to his grave; yet as long as they are at their
ordinary level, and crossed with due care, there is no real danger in
them whatever. I have crossed and recrossed the Waimakiriri so often in
my late trip that I have ceased to be much afraid of it unless it is
high, and then I assure you that I am far too nervous to attempt it.
When I crossed it first I was assured that it was not high, but only a
little full.

The Waimakiriri flows from the back country out into the plains through
a very beautiful narrow gorge. The channel winds between wooded rocks,
beneath which the river whirls and frets and eddies most gloriously.
Above the lower cliffs, which descend perpendicularly into the river,
rise lofty mountains to an elevation of several thousand feet: so that
the scenery here is truly fine. In the river-bed, near the gorge, there
is a good deal of lignite, and, near the Kowai, a little tributary which
comes in a few miles below the gorge, there is an extensive bed of true
and valuable coal.

The back country of the Waimakiriri is inaccessible by dray, so that all
the stores and all the wool have to be packed in and packed out on
horseback. This is a very great drawback, and one which is not likely
to be soon removed. In winter-time, also, the pass which leads into it
is sometimes entirely obstructed by snow, so that the squatters in that
part of the country must have a harder time of it than those on the
plains. They have bush, however, and that is a very important thing.