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In traveling southward, along the slope of the mountain, on again approaching the region of grass it was singular to observe the line of demarcation. The sand, moved by the winds,was gradually encroaching upon the vegetation, the depth of the edge being about 6 inches. The contrast between the deep red of the one and the vivid green of the other was very striking, and the line was as straight, regular, and clearly drawn, with fertility on one side and barrenness on the other, as any of a similar nature seen by the writer in Egypt.
   The walking upon the sand, although tiresome, was easy as compared with that on the hummock grass, over which our route now lay. In our journeyings theretofore, although there was no regular paths and of course no roads, we were fortunate enough occasionally to strike a sheep or cattle trail, which afforded a welcome relief, however brief, to our jaded feet, There was nothing of the sort now - no avoiding of rough places, no choice of spots to plant a foot - and as we moved grimly onward, blundering at every step, the distance around Cape Anaataavanui seemed interminable. Thoroughly fatigued we reached the precipice, which terminated the plateau over which we had been struggling, and looking to the westward saw the welcome flags, still a mile distant, waving over our camp. The descent of the precipice at the point reached being precarious, its edge was skirted until a more favorable place was found down which to scramble to the plain below. Here we presently struck a trail, which soon opened into a wagon road, whence a footpath led to the camp, which the writer (the party having been scattered since noon) reached at 4.30 in the afternoon.
   The situation of the camp, which was named "Baird" in honor of the secretary of the Smithsonian Institution , was a delightful one, being located on the south side of the little bay of Hanga Nui, at the base of a bluff which partly sheltered it from the strong southeast trades, as well as the hot afternoon sun. Rana Roraka, from the crater and slopes of which all the monoliths on the island had been quarried, lay immediately to the left. Pua-ko-taki, over whose summit and around whose base we had toiled, loomed in front of us. Lying in the opening of our cave , we could gaze upon the great platform, Tongarika, with its fifteen prostrate stone images, the largest and most imposing on the island. At our feet, surging back and forth among the everlasting rocks as the swell rolled in from the open ocean, lay the sparkling waters of the Hanga Nui Bay.
   The cave, called "Ana Havea" by the natives, ran back into the bluff a distance of 50 feet or more and laterally about 30. The entrance was spacious, and it was roomy, dry, and well ventilated, the trade wind, deflected by the bluff, sweeping nearly across its face. It was an ancient cavern, had been inhabited by the image builders, and was still occupied at times by the natives, as also by Messrs. Salmon and Brander when in this part of the island engaged in rounding up their herds of cattle or sheep. The floor was strewn with dry litter, bull rushes and

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