few hour after dawn; but twenty-five miles further back, on the
border of the glacier region, the mountain tarns could boast of ice
several feet thick all the winter. We heard rumours of far-inland
lakes, across which heavily-laden bullock-teams could pass in
perfect safety for three months of the year, and we grumbled at the
light film over our own large ponds, which would not bear even my
little terrier's weight after mid-day: and yet it was cold enough at
night, during our short bright winters, to satisfy the most
icy-minded person. I think I have mentioned before that the wooden
houses in New Zealand, especially those roughly put together
up-country, are by no means weather-tight. Disagreeable as this may
be, it is doubtless the reason of the extraordinary immunity from
colds and coughs which we hill-dwellers enjoyed. Living between
walls formed by inch-boards over-lapping each other, and which can
only be made to resemble English rooms by being canvassed and
papered inside, the pure fresh air finds its way in on all sides. A
hot room in winter is an impossibility, in spite of drawn curtains
and blazing fires, therefore the risk of sudden changes of
temperature is avoided.

Some such theory as this is absolutely necessary to account for the
wonderfully good health enjoyed by all, in the most capricious and
trying climate I have ever come across. When a strong nor'-wester
was howling down the glen, I have seen the pictures on my
drawing-room walls blowing out to an angle of 45 degrees, although
every door and window in the little low wooden structure had been
carefully closed for hours. It has happened to me more than once,
on getting up in the morning, to find my clothes, which had been
laid on a chair beneath my bedroom window overnight, completely
covered by powdered snow, drifting in through the ill-fitting