as if the silver side of earth were turned outwards that winter
morning.

No sooner had we mounted (with no "swag" except our skates this
time) than Mr. C. H--- set spurs to his horse, and bounded over the
slip-rail of the paddock before Karl could get it down. We were too
primitive for gates in those parts: they only belonged to the
civilization nearer Christchurch; and I had much ado to prevent my
pony from following his lead, especially as the other gentlemen were
only too delighted to get rid of some of their high spirits by a
jump. However Karl got the top rail down for me, and "Mouse" hopped
over the lower one gaily, overtaking the leader of the expedition in
a very few strides. We could not keep up our rapid pace long; for
the ground became terribly broken and cut up by swamps, quicksands,
blind creeks, and all sorts of snares and pit-falls. Every moment
added to the desolate grandeur of the scene. Bleak hills rose up on
either hand, with still bleaker and higher peaks appearing beyond
them again. An awful silence, unbroken by the familiar cheerful
sound of the sheep calling to each other,--for even the hardy merino
cannot live in these ranges during the winter months,--brooded
around us, and the dark mass of a splendid "bush," extending over
many hundred acres, only added to the lonely grandeur of the scene.
We rode almost the whole time in a deep cold shade, for between us
and the warm sun-rays were such lofty mountains that it was only for
a few brief noontide moments he could peep over their steep sides.

After two hour's riding, at the best pace which we could keep up
through these terrible gorges, a sharp turn of the track brought us
full in view of our destination. I can never forget that first
glimpse of Lake Ida. In the cleft of a huge, gaunt, bare hill,