amounted to less than two miles an hour, whereas we could pull five. Our
course must have been true, as also the directions we received, for on
entering between the heads we found ourselves in a lovely bay stretching
away to where we were able to discern the masts of vessels in the
distance, and soon after a large white object lying upon the shore. To
satisfy our curiosity and obtain news of our whereabouts we rowed over
and found that the white object was the carcase of a whale which had
been washed on shore, and on which several men were engaged cutting it
up. These speedily discovered our "new chum" appearance, but with true
Colonial hospitality at once offered us a nip of rum, at the same moment
somewhat disturbing our equanimity by telling us that if we went on to
the Port we would be put in choky for leaving the ship before the
Medical Officer examined her.

It was strange and very pleasant to feel the solid ground under our feet
after 94 days at sea, and we sat awhile with the whale men before
resuming our boat. Then we proceeded quietly down the Bay, which was
very beautiful, the dense and variegated primeval forests clothing the
lower portions of the hills and fringing the ravines and gullies to the
shore, the pretty caves and bays lying in sheltered nooks, with a
mountain stream or cascade to complete the picture, and all undefiled by
the hand of man. The bold outline of the bare rocky summits, the deep
blue of the silent calm bay, and the distant view of the little Port of
Lyttelton picturesquely sloping up the hillside.

Seeing no sign of the ship, and fearing to approach the town, we rowed
into a little sandy cove, where we fastened the boat and proceeded to
ascend the hill to endeavour to discover the ship's whereabouts. About
half-way we came upon a neat shepherd's cottage in one of the most
picturesque localities imaginable, and commanding a magnificent view of