very palatable; some boiled wild pig, tender and tasty as turkey, potatoes, scones and tea. Every now and then he would come into the hut to see how we fared: "To think of it! Who would have supposed it? a Bishop with nothing on but his hat, and one of my red blankets, sitting by my fireside! My Lord, I trust that the wind which percolates through the interstices of my poor house does not inconvenience you." At night, for supper, we had a fresh delicacy, a roasted Kiwi, locally called a "wood-hen," rather like a hen pheasant, one of the surviving specimens of the Apteryx, or "wingless" bird, in New Zealand. It has a rudimentary wing, of one joint only, but is a ground bird, and if well cooked, so as to get rid of its superabundant oil, by no means uneatable. Our host took much pleasure in his cuisine, and kept us amused till a late hour at night, relating his interesting experiences in France, and as a sailor, meanwhile shaping out of raw bullock-hide a stirrup to take the place of the one lost in the water.
Next morning he gave me careful directions for our journey, many miles of hill country, with only a scanty track here and there to guide us, and no place of shelter if we lost the way. Noticing that I was impatient to start in good time, and somewhat anxious, he said: "Now, don't fuss, young man, you will get through right enough; just look at the Bishop yonder, calm and quiet, as if he had not had to swim for his life yesterday."
When we reached Dunedin, finding an opportunity of sending our friend some memento of our gratitude for his hospitality, we made up a small parcel of tobacco and pipes, writing materials, a book or two, one in French, and despatched it. We then pursued our
