Looking at the results, we might naturally fancy that the dusky architect possessed a goodly array of tools; but, in fact, his tools are as few and simple as his weapons, and may be practically considered as two, the adze and the chisel. On the next page an example of each is drawn, the artist having taken care to select the best and most valuable specimens; the blades being formed from the precious green jade, and the handles carved elaborately, so as to be worthy of the valuable material from which the blades are shaped. As may be imagined, these tools cannot have very sharp edges given to them, as the brittleness of the stone would cause it to chip into an edge like that of a bad saw, and in consequence the worst iron axe is a far better tool than the best specimen of green stonework that a Maori ever made. At No. 3 may be seen one of the common “tokis,” or stone axes, that were formerly so much used in building canoes. The specimen from which it is drawn is in my collection, and I have selected it for illustration because it gives so excellent an idea of the structure of the tool, and the mode of fastening the blade to the handle. This is achieved in a very ingenious manner, and although it scarcely seems possible to secure the requisite firmness by a mere lashing of string, the Maori workman has contrived to attach the blade as firmly as if it had been socketed. This mode of fastening the blade to the handle prevails over the greater part of the Polynesian group, and, although the elaboration of the lashings varies considerably, the principle is exactly the same throughout. The same plan prevails even in Borneo, and there is in my collection a boat-builder’s adze, the iron blade of which is lashed to the socket in precisely the same manner, the only difference being that split rattan is employed instead of string. The reader will notice the peculiar shape of the adze-edge, which is exactly that of the incisor tooth of any rodent animal. Whether the maker intentionally copied the tooth is doubtful, but that he has done so is evident. Tools such as these are necessarily imperfect; yet with these the Maories patiently executed the elaborate and really artistic designs which they once lavished on their dwellings, their canoes, their weapons, and their tools. They could not even make a walking stick but they must needs cover it with carvings. There is in my collection, and illustrated at fig. 4, a remarkably fine example of such a walking stick, called in the Maori tongue “toko-toko,” which was presented to me by Stiverd Vores, Esq. As the reader may see from the illustration it is ornamented with six complete human figures, and a human face on the knob of the handle. The portions of the stick that come between the figures are completely covered with carving, and the only plain surface is that which is intended to be grasped by the hand.