New Guinea hut on piles.
(Fac-simile of early engraving.)

It would be useless to linger with Dumont d'Urville at New South Wales, to the history of which, and its condition in 1826, he devotes a whole volume of his narrative. We have already given a detailed account of it, and it will be better to leave Sydney with our traveller, on the 19th December, and follow him to Tasman Bay, through calms, head-winds, currents, and tempests, which prevented his reaching New Zealand before the 14th January, 1827. Tasman Bay, first seen by Cook on his second voyage, had never yet been explored by any expedition, and on the arrival of the Astrolabe a number of canoes, containing some score of natives, most of them chiefs, approached. These natives were not afraid to climb on board, some remaining several days, whilst later arrivals drew up within reach, and a brisk trade was opened. Meanwhile several officers climbed through the thick furze clothing the hills overlooking the bay, and the following is D'Urville's verdict on the desolate scene which met their view.

"Not a bird, not an insect, not even a reptile to be seen, the solemn, melancholy silence is unbroken by the voice of any living creature." From the summit of these hills the commander saw New Bay, that known as Admiralty, which communicates by a current with that in which the Astrolabe was anchored; and he was anxious to explore it, as it seemed safer than that of Tasman, but the currents several times brought his vessel to the very verge of destruction; and had the Astrolabe been driven upon the rocky coast, the whole crew would have perished, and not so much as a trace of the wreck would have been left. At last, however, D'Urville succeeded in clearing the passage with no further loss than that of a few bits of the ship's keel.

"To celebrate," says the narrative, "the memory of the passage of the Astrolabe, I conferred upon this dangerous strait the name of the 'Passe des Français'" (French Pass), "but, unless in a case of great necessity, I should not advise any one else to attempt it. We could now look calmly at the beautiful basin in which we found ourselves; and which certainly deserves all the praise given to it by Cook. I would specially recommend a fine little harbour, some miles to the south of the place, where the captain cast anchor. Our navigation of the 'Passe des Français' had definitively settled the insular character of the whole of the district terminating in the 'Cape Stephens' of Cook. It is divided from the mainland of Te-Wahi-Punamub1 by the Current Basin. The comparison of our chart with that of the strait as laid down by Cook will suffice to show how much he left to be done."

1 Now "South Island."—Trans.

The Astrolabe soon entered Cook's Strait, and sailing outside Queen Charlotte's Bay, doubled Cape Palliser, a headland formed of some low hills. D'Urville was greatly surprised to find that a good many inaccuracies had crept into the work of the great English navigator, and in that part of the account of his voyage which relates to hydrography, he quotes instances of errors of a fourth, or even third of a degree.

The commander then resolved to make a survey of the eastern side of the northern island Ika-Na-Mawi. On this island pigs were to be found, but no "pounamon" the green jade which the New Zealanders use in the manufacture of their most valuable tools; strange to say, however, jade is to be found on the southern island, but there are no pigs.

Two natives of the island, who had expressed a wish to remain on board the corvette, became quite low-spirited as they watched the coast of the district where they lived disappear below the horizon. They then began to repent, but too late, the intrepidity which had prompted them to leave their native shores; for intrepid they justly deserve to be called, seeing that again and again they asked the French sailors if they were not to be eaten, and it took several days of kind treatment to dispel this fear from their minds.

New Zealanders.
(Fac-simile of early engraving.)