ever heard of any such accident. On one occasion only did I find a man in real need and quite alone. His hut lies in a secluded valley through which few ever pass but myself, and the poor fellow, having been taken with severe colic, as it happened on my accustomed day for visiting him, was on the look-out for me, but failed to see me coming by the usual route. I was trying a short cut across country, over a very steep ridge, intending to drop down into the valley instead of working my way up its whole length. Looking down, I saw in front of his hut something that looked like a bed, and on it someone signalling with a white towel. The man had caught sight of me on the top of the ridge and, fearing I might pass him by, had dragged out a stretcher bed, so that I might see him lying on it. He was in a bad way, so I went off as fast as I could to the home station, whence the overseer sent men to fetch him, doing what he could for him until the Doctor arrived, whose house was forty miles distant.
It is Saturday evening, and I come to a station on the banks of the Rakaia River, in high mountainous country, where the river valley opens out magnificent views of the Southern Alps, always more or less snow-clad, the western sun sinking behind them, touching the highest peaks with glorious light, in contrast to the purple shadows which veil their rugged precipitous flanks below. Here the owner always arranges for a gathering of all hands on a Saturday evening, Sundays being impossible for me. Shearing, it happens, is in full swing, so there are a number of extra men, besides the shepherds of the station, shearers, fleece-pickers, wool sorters, and "rouse-abouts." I find that these gatherings for service are heartily welcomed by all
