merely a very insufficient network of fibres, seldom of any size,
which spreads a short way along the surface of the ground As long as
a Bush is undisturbed by civilization, it appears to be impervious
to wind or weather; but as soon as it is opened and cleared a
little, it begins to diminish rapidly. There are traces all over
the hills of vast forests having once existed; chiefly of totara, a
sort of red pine, and those about us are scattered with huge logs of
this valuable wood, all bearing traces of the action of fire; but
shepherds, and explorers on expeditions, looking for country, have
gradually consumed them for fuel, till not many pieces remain except
on the highest and most inaccessible ranges.

It was a delightful, and by no means unacceptable surprise which
awaited us on the other side, when, on emerging from a very thick
part of the Bush, we came on a lovely spot, a true "meeting of the
waters." Three broad, bright creeks came rushing and tumbling down
from the densely wooded hills about to join and flow on in quite a
good-sized river, amid boulders and a great deal of hurry and fuss,
--a contrast to the profound quiet of our ramble hitherto, the
silence of which was only broken by the twitter and whistle of the
birds. Never a song can you hear, only a sweet chirrup, or two or
three melodious notes. On the opposite bank of the river there was
the welcome sight of several hampers more or less unpacked, and the
gleam of a white tablecloth on the moss. Half-a-dozen gentlemen had
formed themselves into a commissariat, and were arranging luncheon.
We could see the champagne cooling in a sort of little bay,
protected by a dam of big stones from being carried down the stream.
It all looked very charming and inviting, but the next question was
how to get across the river to these good things. Twelve or
fourteen feet separated us, hungry and tired wanderers as we were,