for the imprisoned "nor'-wester" to have his turn over the surface
of the domain.

Accordingly the first day's sail was against a light, ominously warm
head-wind, and we only made any way at all by keeping up a
complicated system of tacking. The start had not been an early one,
so darkness found us but little advanced on our voyage, and we
passed the night in a rough shanty, on beds of fern-leaves, wrapped
in our red blankets. Tired as we were, none of us could sleep much.
The air was dry and parched; every now and then a sough of the
rising. hot gale swept through our crazy shelter without cooling us,
and warned us to prepare for what was coming. Our only chance of
getting on was to make an early start, for fortunately a true
"nor'-wester" is somewhat of a sluggard. The skies wore their
peculiar chrysoprase green tint, except towards the weather quarter,
where heavy banks of lurid cloud showed that the enemy was
collecting in force. Even the hour of dawn, usually so crisp and
cool, brought no sense of refreshment to our languid limbs, and we
embarked with the direst forebodings. A few miles further up the
lake we reached an out-station hut, built by our host Mr. Johnson
when he first "took up" his country and intended to push his
boundary as far as this. He soon drew in his lines however on
account of the rough nature of the ground. The hut was in a most
picturesque spot, and although deserted, remained still in good
repair. The little scrap of garden ground was a tangle of
gooseberry and currant bushes among which potatoes flourished at
their own sweet will.

We had only time to beach the boat, that is to say F--- and the two
men did so, whilst I ran backwards and forwards with the blankets