e rising ground, several homesteads come into view,
scattered about within a distance of one or two miles. Beyond the
paddocks surrounding these, all of the country that is visible appears
to be covered with tall brown fern, and a low brushwood not unlike
heather.

As we go lumbering up the rise we are passed by a young lady riding down
towards the hotel. Very bright and pretty she looks, by contrast with
the rough surroundings. Quite a lovely picture, in her graceful
riding-habit of light drab, and her little billycock hat with its
brilliant feather. So think we all, especially our gallant Jehu, who
bows profoundly in response to a nod of recognition, and turns to look
admiringly after the fair equestrian.

Then, upon the right, we look down upon the great feature of the
district, Mr. Lamb's flour-mill and biscuit-factory. In this
establishment are made crackers that are well-known and much esteemed
far beyond the limits of New Zealand. The Riverhead manufacture is known
in the South Sea and Australia. The factory stands on the bank of the
creek, having water-power and a water highway at its door. It is a large
structure, mostly of timber, with a tall chimney of brick. Near it is
the residence of the proprietor, and a row of houses inhabited by his
employes. The whole is surrounded by a grove of choice trees and shrubs,
by gardens and paddocks, evidently in a high state of cultivation.
Beyond tower the brown and shaggy ranges, and all around is the uncouth
moorland. It is an oasis in the desert, this green and fertile spot, a
Tadmor in the wilderness.

Yet when we make some remarks, as new-chums will, about the apparent
richness of the land down there, a settler, who sits behind, takes us up
rather shortly. He appears to consider Mr. Lamb's estate as a positive
offence. "Bone-dust and drainage!" he says with a snort of contempt. It
seems that the land about us is considered to be of the very poorest
quality, sour gum-clay; and any one who sets about reclaiming such sort
is looked upon as a fool, at least, although, in this case, it is
evident that the cultivation is merely an ornamental subsidiary to the
factory.

But these poor lands are only bad comparatively. Much of the soil in
them is better by far than that of many productive farms at home; only
our colonial pioneer-farmers have no notion of any scientific methods in
agriculture. They have been spoilt by the wondrous fertility of the rich
black forest mould,