To the un-scientific it is a rather
dirty-looking bird, with some bright red feathers under its wings. It
is very tame, sits still to be petted, and screams like a real parrot.
Two attended us on our ascent after leaving the bush. We threw many
stones at them, and it was not their fault that they escaped unhurt.
Immediately on emerging from the bush we found all vegetation at an end.
We were on the moraine of an old glacier, and saw nothing in front of us
but frightful precipices and glaciers. There was a saddle, however, not
above a couple of thousand feet higher. This saddle was covered with
snow, and, as we had neither provisions nor blankets, we were obliged to
give up going to the top of it. We returned with less reluctance, from
the almost absolute certainty, firstly, that we were not upon the main
range; secondly, that this saddle would only lead to the Waimakiriri,
the next river above the Rakaia. Of these two points my companion was
so convinced, that we did not greatly regret leaving it unexplored. Our
object was commercial, and not scientific; our motive was pounds,
shillings, and pence: and where this failed us, we lost all excitement
and curiosity.
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