and
prominent in every possible capacity on the local race-courses.

Dinner is over very soon, and a very good one it was, well worth the
shilling each of us pays for it. Then we take leave of Dobbs and his
wife, whose future boss has arrived in a rude cart drawn by two horses,
in which to drive them and their traps over to his place in Ararimu. We
ourselves are going on to Helensville in the coach, a distance of about
eighteen miles.

The coach partakes of the crudity which seems impressed upon everything
in this new locality. The body of it is not much larger, apparently,
than a four-wheeled cab, and does not seem as if it could possibly
accommodate more than eight passengers altogether. Yet Dandy Jack avers
that he has carried over a score, and that he considers sixteen a proper
full-up load. On the present occasion there are not more than half a
dozen, besides my chum and I. Glass there is none about the coach, but a
good deal of leather. Springs, properly so-called, are also wanting. The
body is hung in some strong rude fashion on broad, substantial wheels.
Altogether, the machine looks as if it were intended for the roughest of
rough work.

As strangers, we are invited to occupy the seats of honour--on the box
beside the driver. There are no lady passengers to snatch the coveted
post from us. Dandy Jack says to me--

"Of course, I should prefer to have a lady beside me, but, somehow, I'm
always glad when there arn't any. It's a grave responsibility--a grave
responsibility!"

Whilst we are endeavouring to evolve the meaning of this mysterious
remark--it is not until a while later that we fully comprehend
it--preparations are being made for the start. Four ungroomed, unshod
horses are hitched on, and their plunging and capering shows they are
impatient to be off. Our driver's lieutenant, Yankee Bill, mounts a
fifth horse, and prepares to act as outrider. Then Dandy Jack, loudly
shouting, "All aboard! All abo-ard!" springs to his seat, gathers up the
reins, without waiting to see whether every one has obeyed his
injunction or not, bids the men who are holding the cattle stand clear,
gives a whoop and a shake of his whip, and then, with a jolt and a lurch
and a plunge, off we go.

Hitherto we have seen nothing of the settlement, except the hotel and
the goods warehouse on the bank above the wharf. These appear to have
been shot down into the middle of a moorland wilderness. But now, as the
coach surmounts som