ation should ride their twenty miles or so across country
and find us absent.

When the host is willing and the guests eager, it does not take long to
arrange a plan, so the next morning found three of us, besides Mr. C.
H---- mounted and ready to start directly after breakfast. I have often
been asked how I managed in those days about toilette arrangements, when
it was impossible to carry any luggage except a small "swag," closely
packed in a waterproof case and fastened on the same side as the
saddle-pocket. First of all I must assure my lady readers that I prided
myself on turning out as neat and natty as possible at the end of the
journey, and yet I rode not only in my every-day linsey gown, which
could be made long or short at pleasure, but in my crinoline. This was
artfully looped up on the right side and tied by a ribbon, in such a way
that when I came out ready dressed to mount, no one in the world could
have guessed that I had on any _cage_ beneath my short riding habit with
a loose tweed jacket over the body of the dress. Within the "swag"
was stowed a brush and comb, collar, cuffs and handkerchiefs, a little
necessary linen, a pair of shoes, and perhaps a ribbon for my hair if
I meant to be very smart. On this occasion we all found that our skates
occupied a terribly large proportion both of weight and space in our
modest kits, but still we were much too happy to grumble.

Where could you find a gayer quartette than started at an easy canter
up the valley that fresh bracing morning? From the very first our faces
were turned to the south-west, and before us rose the magnificent chain
of the Southern Alps, with their bold snowy peaks standing out in
a glorious dazzle against the cobalt sky. A stranger, or colonially
speaking, a "new chum," would have thought we must needs cross that
barrier-range before we could penetrate any distance into the back
country, but we knew of long winding vallies and gullies running up
between the giant slopes, which would lead us, almost without our
knowing how high we had climbed, up to the elevated but sheltered
plateau among the back country ranges where Mr. C. H----'s homestead
stood. There was only one steep saddle to be crossed, and that lay
between us and Rockwood, six miles off. It was the worst part of the
journey for the horses, so we had easy consciences in dismounting and
waiting an hour when we reached that most charming and hospitable of
houses. I had just time for