At the present day, the kumera, although very highly valued, and used at every important feast, has been rivalled, if not superseded, by the common potato which can be raised with less trouble and cooked more easily. Both the kumera and potato are cooked in a sort of oven, made by heating stones, and much resembling the cooking-place of the Australians. No cooking is allowed to take place in the house, the act of preparing food being looked upon as a desecration of any building. Through ignorance of this curious superstition, Europeans have frequently brought upon themselves the anger of the natives by eating, and even cooking, food within a house which is looked upon as sacred. In consequence of this notion, the oven is either constructed in the open air, or at best in a special house called Te-kauta, which is made of logs piled loosely upon each other, so as to permit the smoke to escape. The bud, or “cabbage,” of the nikau-palm, a species of Areca, is highly prized by the Maories, who fell every tree which they think likely to produce a young and tender bud. This vegetable is sometimes eaten raw, and sometimes cooked in the same mode as the potato. Fortunately, the tree is not wasted by being cut down, as its leaves are used for many purposes, such as making temporary sheds when travellers are benighted in the forest, thatching houses, and similar uses. Still, the destruction of this useful and graceful palm is very great, and there is reason to fear that the improvident natives will wholly extirpate it, unless means be taken to preserve it by force of law. The Maories have one curious plan of preparing food, which seems to have been invented for the purpose of making it as disgusting as possible. They take the kumera, the potato, or the maize, and steep it in fresh water for several weeks, until it is quite putrid. It is then made into cakes, and eaten with the greatest zest. To an European nothing can be more offensive, and the very smell of it, not to mention the flavor, is so utterly disgusting that even a starving man can hardly manage to eat it. The odor is so powerful, so rancid, and so penetrating, that when Europeans have been sitting inside a house and a man has been sitting in the open air eating this putrid bread, they have been forced to send him away from the vicinity of the door. By degrees travellers become more accustomed to it, but at first the effect is inexpressibly disgusting; and when it is cooked, the odor is enough to drive every European out of the village.