lved from his imagination a story like that which had already, years
ago, translated itself into fact. Mr Kipling is a man of such prodigious
resource and experience that he is the last man in the world to accuse
of a plagiarism. It is just within the bounds of possibility, of course,
that he may have heard some version of my story, but the theory to which
I cling is that there was, somewhere about that time, a Scottish ship's
engineer who played off that particular form of humour on two writing
men whom chance threw in his way, and that his victims were Mr Kipling
and myself.

I was confidently assured in Australia that I might see New Zealand
thoroughly in the course of a two months' trip, and when I set out to
visit it, it was my purpose not to extend my stay greatly beyond that
limit. In effect, I found a year all too litde for my purpose.
The physical aspects of the country alone are so extraordinary and
delightful that a lover of nature finds it hard to withdraw himself from
the influence of their charm. New Zealanders delight to speak of their
country as the Wonderland of the South. They are justified, and more
than justified. The northern island is an amazement, but its gruesome
volcanic grotesqueries please less than the scenic splendours of its
southern neighbour. The sounds of the west coast more than rival the
Norwegian fjords. Te Anau and Manipouri and Wakatipu are as fine as
the lakes of Switzerland. The forests, irreverently called "bush," are
beyond words for beauty. A little energy, a little courage, might make
New Zealand the pet recreation ground of half the world. The authorities
are already filling its lakes with trout, and will by-and-by people
its forests with game. There is a very large portion of country which,
except for purposes of sport and travel, is not likely to be utilized
by man. The lake trout grow to enormous size, and as they multiply, and
food grows comparatively scarcer, they are learning to take the fly.
It was an understood thing for years that there was no sport for the
fly-fisher with the trout at Wakatipu, but that theory has died out, for
the very simple reason that the facts have altered. There is no reason
in nature why an acclimatisation society should not succeed in a very
few years in making the south-west portion of the middle island an
actual paradise to the sportsman. It is the plain duty of New Zealand to
invite the outside world to enter its borders, and, for once in