THE CLIMATE AND PRODUCTIONS
The summer was now far advanced, and never, during its progress, had we been incommoded by any very hot weather. Our house was generally crowded with visitors: for, as it was the workmanship of King George and his people, they were prodigiously proud of it, and each seemed to think he had an undoubted right to sit in it as much as he liked. This, at times, we felt as a great annoyance; but we were obliged to be very cautious not to say or do anything that should give offence to them, as all were exceedingly irritable, and we felt it to be most essential to our comfort to continue on friendly terms with them.
Although we were situated in the same latitude as Sydney, we found the climate of New Zealand infinitely superior. Moderate heats and beautifully clear skies succeeded each other every day. We were quite free from those oppressive, feverish heats which invariably prevail in the middle of the day at Sydney, and from those hot pestilential winds which are the terror of the inhabitants of New South Wales; nor were we subject to those long droughts, which are often the ruin of the Australian farmer. The temperature here was neither too hot nor too cold, neither too wet nor too dry. Reflecting on this country—its situation, inhabitants, and climate—I felt convinced that, if it were the object of our Government to form a new colony, they could not select a more desirable spot than New Zealand. When we left Sydney, a disease was raging there of a most disagreeable nature, namely, catarrh. As usual, it affected strongly the eyes and nose, and generally proved fatal to the very old and to children. We found the poor natives here subject to the same complaint, which they called the "Murray," or "Murraybad"; and they declared they caught it from us Europeans.
I could scarcely refrain from laughing while witnessing the strange methods they adopted to effect a cure. Sometimes they would envelope their heads entirely in green leaves, at other times they would almost roast themselves in a heated hut; but their universal remedy, and the one they generally found successful, was starvation, which is, in fact, the doctor who cures them of all the diseases the Europeans have imported amongst them: and, I confess, I have often been amazed at their rapid recovery from maladies which I should have thought incurable. The other day I asked the opinion of a clever medical man, who came here with one of the whalers, and he informed me the only cases he had met with amongst the natives, which terminated fatally, were a few instances of consumption.
After the novelty of our savage life began to wear away, I rambled much about the country, in order to form some judgment of its capability of improvement. I never possessed any practical knowledge of farming, and therefore cannot give a scientific opinion or description of the different soils. In whatever direction I travelled, and at this time I had crossed the country in various directions several times, the soil appeared to me to be fat and rich, and also well watered. From every part of it which the natives have cultivated, the produce has been immense. Here, where the finest samples of the human race are to be found, the largest and finest timber grows, and every vegetable (yet planted) thrives, the introduction of European grasses, fruits, etc., etc., would be a great desideratum. Were this done, in a very short time farms would be more eagerly sought after here than they now are in New South Wales. All the fruits and plants hitherto introduced by the missionary establishments have succeeded wonderfully. Peaches and water melons now were in full season; the natives brought baskets full of them to our door every day, which they exchanged with us for the merest trifles, such as a fish-hook, or a button.
Indian corn was likewise very abundant, but as the natives did not possess any means or knowledge of grinding it, they were not aware of its full value. Their only method of cooking it was one very disgusting to Europeans. They soaked the ear in water till it was quite soft and sour, the smell from which was exceedingly offensive; they then placed it in their earth ovens to bake, and when they partook of it they seemed to enjoy it very much.
In one of my journeys across the island I was accompanied by my Scotch friend, Mr. Shand, who prided himself very much upon his general knowledge of agricultural pursuits; and when I indulged in some sudden bursts of admiration at the beauty of the surrounding prospect, he would invariably check my enthusiasm, by observing that no animals could possibly live in a country so overgrown with fern, and where no grass was indigenous. These observations, often repeated, obliged me to qualify my admiration of this picturesque and beautiful land; but my surprise, and I may say my triumph, were complete when, on approaching the missionary village of Kirikiri, we fell in with a herd of at least a hundred fat cattle, browsing on the sides of the hill, and having nothing else but this very fern to eat; and, on inquiry, we found they gave as good milk, and were in as healthy a condition, as when they grazed on the rich grasses of Lincolnshire.
My friend, Captain Duke, made great preparations for the return of his ships, and purchased many pigs to be salted. The self-denial of the natives is wonderful: though very fond of animal food, they sell the whole to us Europeans for the means of war; thus conquering the appetite for the purpose of possessing arms to make them terrible in the sight of their enemies. This feeling, properly directed, may lead to their becoming a great nation. In the course of our saltings and picklings of pork, owing to the warmth of the weather, a considerable quantity was spoiled. I recommended its being immediately thrown into the sea, but Duke, who knew the propensities of the people better than I did, and wished to ingratiate himself among them, sent for some of his favourites, and presented them with the damaged meat, with which they marched off highly delighted, and made a public feast of it in the evening.
