uch," cried F---- to me, in a regular stage-whisper, as he rushed to
the rescue. So I pulled up one tussock after another by its roots,--an
exertion which resulted in upsetting me each time,--and lighted one as
fast as its predecessor burned out. They were all rather damp, so they
did not flare away too quickly. By the blaze of my grassy torches I saw
F----first seize Mr. U---- round the waist and drag him further from
the bank; but the latter called out, "It's my hands,--they have no skin
left: do catch hold, there's a good fellow." So the "good fellow" did
catch hold, but he was too experienced an eel-fisher to try to lift
a couple of dozen pounds weight of eels out of the water by a
perpendicular string; so he tied it to a flax-bush near, and, stooping
down in order to get some leverage over the bank, very soon drew the
ball, with its slimy, wriggling captives, out of the water. Just as
he jerked it far on shore, one or two of the creatures broke loose and
escaped, leaving quite enough to afford a most disgusting and horrible
sight as they were shuffled and poked into the empty flour-sack.

The sportsmen were delighted however, and departed to a fresh bend of
the creek, leaving me to find my way back to my original post. This
would have been difficult indeed, had not Nettle remained behind to
guard my gloves, which I had left in his custody. As I passed, not
knowing I was so near the spot, the little dog gave a low whimper of
greeting, sufficient to attract my attention and guide me to where he
was keeping his faithful watch and ward. I felt for my flax-stick and
moved it ever so gently. A sudden jerk and splash startled me horribly,
and warned me that I had disturbed an eel who was in the act of supping
off my bait. In the momentary surprise I suppose I let go, for certain
it is that the next instant my flax-stick was rapidly towed down the
stream.

Instead of feeling provoked or mortified, it was the greatest relief
to know that my eel-fishing was over for the night, and that now I had
nothing to do except "wait till called for." So I took Nettle on my
lap and tried to abide patiently, but I had not been long enough in New
Zealand to have any confidence in the climate, and as I felt how damp my
clothes were, and recollected with horror my West Indian experiences of
the consequences of exposure to night air and heavy dew, my mind _would_
dwell gloomily on the prospect of a fever, at least. It seemed a long
and wear