But as you ascend it the hills close in.

Their sides become tall cliffs, whose feet the water washes.

From the tops of these precipices the forest, growing denser and richer at every turn, rises on the flanks of the hills.

In places the cliffs are so steep and impracticable that the Maoris use ladders for descending on their villages above to their canoes in the rivers below.

Lovely indeed are these cliffs; first, because of the profusion of fern frond, leaf, and moss, growing from everything that can climb to, lay hold of, or root itself in crack, crevice, or ledge, and droop, glistening with spray-drops, or wave whispering in the wind; next, because of the striking form and colour of the cliffs themselves.