the forest-clothed ranges on the opposite side
of the river, which is here about a mile in breadth. The land within the
basin is nothing like level, and English farmers might be frightened at
its ruggedness. To colonial eyes, however, it seems all that could be
desired.

Knolls and terraces gradually lead up to the ranges, which sweep away to
run together into a high hill called Marahemo, about three miles behind
us. The little eminence, on which stands the shanty, slopes down on the
left to a flat, where originally flax and rushes did most abound.
Through this flat a small creek has channelled a number of little ponds
and branches on its way to the river beyond.

On the right the bank is steeper, and upon it stand a number of
cabbage-tree palms. Down below is a little rocky, rugged gully, with a
brawling stream rushing through it. Just abreast of the shanty this
stream forms a cascade, tumbling into a pool that beyond is still and
clear and gravelly. It is a most romantically beautiful spot, shaded and
shut in completely by fern-covered rocks and overhanging trees. This is
our lavatory. Here we bathe, wash our shirts, and draw our supplies of
water. This creek flows down through the mangrove swamp to the river;
and, at high-water, we can bring our boats up its channel to a point
about a quarter of a mile below the shanty.

The site of the shanty has its advantages; but it has that one serious
drawback foreseen by Old Colonial. Somehow or other, year after year has
flown by, and still we have not got that frame-house we promised
ourselves. It is not for want of means, or because we have not been
quite so rapidly successful as we anticipated. Of course not! Away with
such base insinuations! But we have never any time to see about it, and
are grown so used to the shanty that we do not seem to hanker after
anything more commodious. So all these years, we have had to hump on our
backs and shoulders every blessed thing that we have imported or
exported, from the shanty to the water, or the contrary--sacks of flour,
sugar, and salt, grindstones, cheeses, meat, furniture. Oh, misery! how
our backs have ached as we have toiled up to our glorious site, while
Old Colonial laughed and jeered, as his unchristian manner is.

Our work began with the timbers of the shanty itself, and with the heavy
material for the stockyard. But humping was then a novelty, and we
regarded it as a labour of love. Now we know better, and, when we do