. No ray of sunshine ever struck it from
autumn until spring, and it seemed impossible to imagine our venturing
to skate merrily in such a sombre looking spot. But New-Zealand sheep
farmers are not sentimental I am afraid. Beyond a rapid thought of
self-congratulation that such "cold country" was not on _their_ run,
they did not feel affected by its eternal silence and gloom. The ice
would bear, and what more could skater's heart desire? At the end of the
dark tarn, nearest to the track by which we had approached it, stood a
neat little hut; and judge of my amazement when, as we rode up to it,
a young gentleman, looking as if he was just going out for a day's
deer-stalking, opened the low door and came out to greet us. Yes, here
was one of those strange anomalies peculiar to the colonies. A young
man, fresh from his University, of refined tastes and cultivated
intellect, was leading here the life of a boor, without companionship
or appreciation of any sort. His "mate" seemed to be a rough West
countryman, honest and well meaning enough, but utterly unsuited to Mr.
K----. It was the old story, of wild unpractical ideas hastily carried
out. Mr. K---- had arrived in New Zealand a couple of years before, with
all his worldly wealth,--1,000 pounds. Finding this would not go very
far in the purchase of a good sheep-run, and hearing some calculations
about the profit to be derived from breeding cattle, based upon
somebody's lucky speculation, he eagerly caught at one of the many
offers showered upon unfortunate "new chums," and bought the worst and
bleakest bit of one of the worst and bleakest runs in the province. The
remainder of his money was laid out in purchasing stock; and now he had
sat down patiently to await, in his little hut, until such time as his
brilliant expectations would be realized. I may say here they became
fainter and fainter year by year, and at last faded away altogether;
leaving him at the end of three lonely, dreadful years with exactly half
his capital, but double his experience. However this has nothing to do
with my story, except that I can never think of our skating expedition
to that lonely lake, far back among those terrible hills, without a
thrill of compassion for the only living human being, who dwelt among
them.

It was too cold to dawdle about, however, that day. The frost lay white
and hard upon the ground, and we felt that we were cruel in leaving our
poor horses standing to get chilled wh