hat July, without one moment's lull. The
bitter, furious blast swept down the mountain gorges, driving sheets of
blinding rain in a dense wall before it. Now and then the rain turned
into large snow-flakes, or the wind rose into such a hurricane that the
falling water appeared to be flashing over the drenched earth without
actually touching it. Indoors we could hardly hear ourselves speak for
the noise of the wind and rain against the shingle roof. It became a
service of danger, almost resembling a forlorn hope, to go out and drag
in logs of wet wood, or draw water from the well,--for, alas, there were
no convenient taps or snug coal-holes in our newly-erected little wooden
house. We husbanded every scrap of mutton, in very different fashion to
our usual reckless consumption, the consumption of a household which
has no butcher's bill to pay; for we knew not when the shepherd might be
able to fight his way through the storm, with half a sheep packed before
him, on sturdy little "Judy's" back. The creeks rose and poured over
their banks in angry yellow floods. Every morning casualties in the
poultry yard had to be reported, and that week cost me almost as many
fowls and ducks as my great christening party did. The first thing every
morning when I opened my eyes I used to jump up and look out of the
different windows with eager curiosity, to see if there were any signs
of a break in the weather, for I was quite unaccustomed to be pent up
like a besieged prisoner for so many succeeding days. We did not boast
of shutters in those regions, and even blinds were a luxury which were
not wasted in the little hall. Consequently, when my unsatisfactory
wanderings about the silent house--for no one else was up--led me that
dreadful stormy morning into the narrow passage called the back-hall,
I easily saw through its glass-door what seemed to me one of the most
pathetic sights my eyes had ever rested upon.

Just outside the verandah, which is the invariable addition to
New Zealand houses, stood, bareheaded, a tall, gaunt figure, whose
rain-sodden garments clung closely to its tottering limbs. A more dismal
morning could not well be imagined: the early dawn struggling to make
itself apparent through a downpour of sleet and rain, the howling wind
(which one could almost see as it drove the vapour wall before it), and
the profound solitude and silence of all except the raging storm.

At first I thought I must be dreaming, so silent and