who however never flinched; at the steepest pinch the gentlemen were
requested to get out and walk, which they did, and at length we
reached the top. It was worth all the bad road to look down on the
land-locked bay, with the little patches of cultivation, a few
houses nestling in pretty recesses. The town of Lyttleton seemed
much more imposing and important as we rose above it: fifteen years
ago a few sheds received the "Pilgrims," as the first comers are
always called. I like the name; it is so pretty and suggestive. By
the way, I am told that these four ships, sent out with the pilgrims
by the Canterbury Association, sailed together from England, parted
company almost directly, and arrived in Lyttleton (then called Port
Cooper) four months afterwards, on the same day, having all
experienced fine weather, but never having sighted each other once.

As soon as we reached the top of the hill the driver looked to the
harness of his horses, put on a very powerful double break, and we
began the descent, which, I must say, I thought we took much too
quickly, especially as at every turn of the road some little
anecdote was forthcoming of an upset or accident; however, I would
not show the least alarm, and we were soon rattling along the Sumner
Road, by the sea-shore, passing every now and then under tremendous
overhanging crags. In half an hour we reached Sumner itself, where
we stopped for a few moments to change horses. There is an inn and
a village here, where people from Christchurch come in the warm
weather for sea-air and bathing. It began to rain hard, and the
rest of the journey, some seven or eight miles, was disagreeable
enough; but it was the _end_, and that one thought was sufficient to
keep us radiantly good-humoured, in spite of all little trials.
When we reached Christchurch, we drove at once to a sort of
boarding-house where we had engaged apartments, and thought of