steamer seemed to touch at every hamlet along the coast, and after
each pause I had to begin afresh my agonies of sea-sickness. There
was no such thing as getting one's sea-legs; for we were seldom more
than a few hours outside, and had no chance of getting used to the
horrible motion. Timaru was reached next day, but we had suffered
so frightfully during the night from a chopping sea and an open.
roadstead, that we went on shore, and entrusted ourselves once more
to the old coach. It seemed better to endure the miseries we knew
of, than to make experiments in wretchedness. So we went through
the old jolting and jumbling until we were dropped at an
accommodation house, fifteen miles from Christchurch, where we slept
that night, and at daylight despatched a messenger to the next
station for our own horses. He had only thirty-five miles to ride,
and about mid-day we started to meet him on hired horses, which we
were very glad to exchange for better nags a stage further on.

And so we rode quietly home in the gloaming, winding up the lovely,
tranquil valley, at whose head stood our own snug little homestead.
At first we were so glad to be safely at hone again that we scarcely
gave a thought to our fruitless enterprise; but as our bruised
bodies became rested and restored, our hearts began to ache when we
thought of the money we had so rashly flung away in BUYING A RUN.



Chapter VIII: Looking for a congregation.


It is to be hoped and expected that such a good understanding has
been established between my readers and myself by this time, that