water!" It was a long job, and heavy, for our feet sank deep in the soft peat, and now and then the water rose breast high, but we emerged at last. Then we began to feel the strain of nearly twenty-four hours' fast and lack of drink. We lay down in the sun to dry, our clothes fortunately having escaped wetting, and then got up for a march of some sixteen miles, nothing to speak of, had we been in good condition for it. "My Lord," said the Inspector, "I know what thirst means, and it's going to be a tough contract for us; we will walk very slowly; don't talk; every half-hour I will give a signal; then lie down for a few minutes, don't try to talk." We obeyed, and somehow got along, throat and tongue parched, and a great emptiness within; hours of monotonous tramp, only once broken by a tantalizing disappointment. A small hut came in view, we quickened our steps, the Inspector went in. "Nothing!" he said, "empty pannikins, no water!" But in the distance the big hill at the Bluff grew steadily bigger, and at last we spied a small house, such a welcome sight, evidently inhabited, and someone coming to meet us,—an old whaler, followed by his Maori wife.
It was late afternoon; near the house there was a pool of bright fresh water, fringed with soft turf; without a word we flung ourselves down, and began to lap like dogs. "Don't swallow," said the man, "drink very slowly, and lie still a bit till we get some tea and food ready for you." We lay there a full half-hour or more before we could recover, and take the tea and hot scones which the Maori wife brought us. Then we explained to our hosts what we had come through, and the man, getting his boat ready, rowed us across the Bluff harbour to the settlement,
