few well-laid-out streets and white houses, young farms, fences, trees,
gardens, and all the numerous signs of a prosperous and thriving young
colony, the little river Avon winding its peaceful way to the sea and
encircling the infant town like a silver cord, and the muddy Heathcote
with its few white sails and heavily-laden barges. While beyond
stretched away for sixty miles the splendid Canterbury Plains bounded in
their turn by the southern Alps with their towering snow-capped peaks
and glaciers sparkling in the sun; the patches of black pine forest
lying sombre and dark against the mountain sides, in contrast with the
purple, blue, and gray of the receding gorges, changing, smiling, or
frowning as clouds or sunshine passed over them. All this heightened by
the extremely rare atmosphere of New Zealand, in which every detail
stood out at even that distance clear and distinct, made up a picture
which for beauty and grandeur can rarely be equalled in the world.

Upon arrival at Christchurch we put up at a neat little inn on the
outskirts of the town, called Rule's accommodation house. It was a
picture of neatness, cleanliness, and comfort. We found it occupied by
several squatters of what might be called the better class, who, on
their occasional business visits to Christchurch, preferred a quiet
establishment to the larger and more noisy hotels, of which the town
possessed two.

These gentlemen were clothed in cord breeches and high boots, with
guernsey smock frocks, in which costume they appeared to live. English
coats and collars and light boots were luxuries unknown or contemned by
these hardy sons of the bush, whom we found very pleasant company, but
who, it was apparent to us before we were many minutes in their society,
regarded us as very raw material indeed. According to bush custom it was
usual to dub all fresh arrivals "new chums" until they had