The name Rangipo means, in the native language, "black, cloudy sky," a term which in former years may have had some allusion to the volcanic fires, with their clouds of smoke and ashes, which must at some period have made this place appear like a veritable Pandemonium--or it may, on the other hand, have originated in the terrific storms which still break with unabated violence on this elevated region, just as they must have done countless ages ago, when the elements above waged war with the plutonic fires below. Be that, however, as it may, the "black, cloudy sky" cast its dismal mantle around us, and our first night was ushered in with a tremendous storm of wind from the north-east, and a perfect deluge of rain. The creeks and rivers rose around us, the Waikato rolled through its rocky gorge with a sound like the roaring of a distant sea, and when daybreak came and we looked anxiously in the direction of Tongariro, both it and Ruapehu were blotted completely out of view by a dense black cloud, which hung around them like a funeral pall. Up to the time when we arrived at the Rangipo, we had enjoyed throughout our journey the most delightful weather, but this sudden break was the prelude to some of the hardest experiences of our journey. The rain poured down incessantly without a single hour's intermission, and without a single break in the clouds, the wind blowing a hurricane most of the time, and veering round to all points of the compass, but invariably coming back to the north-east or north. During the six days and nights which this storm lasted without a single intermission, we lived on from day to day in hope, which was sustained by scanty feeds of porridge and hard biscuit. We, however, managed to keep body and soul together, but our poor horses suffered severely, and it was the privations which they underwent on this occasion that told greatly upon them during the whole of the journey. The constant cold and wet to which they were exposed reduced their general tone to the lowest, and while the grass at that season possessed little or no nourishment, they had to seek their food always at the end of the tether rope. To aid them a little, we would go into the bush which skirts the Waikato, and cut the branches of the _karamu_,[45] which bears a dark green leaf and clusters of bright red berries. Of this the half-starved animals would eat voraciously, but unfortunately the supply was limited in this locality, although we afterwards met with this tree frequently throughout our journey.