y while before I perceived a figure coming towards me; and I am
afraid I was both cross and cold and sleepy by the time we set our faces
homewards. "I have only caught three," said F----. "How many have you
got?" "None, I am happy to say," I answered peevishly, "What could
Nettle and I have done with the horrible things if we had caught any?"

The walk, or rather the stumble home, proved to be the worst part of the
expedition. Not a ray of starlight had we to guide us,--nothing but
inky blackness around and over us. We tried to make Nettle go first,
intending to follow his lead, and trusting to his keeping the track; but
Nettle's place was at my heels, and neither coaxing nor scolding would
induce him to forego it. A forlorn hope was nothing to the dangers of
each footstep. First one and then the other volunteered to lead the way,
declaring they could find the track. All this time we were trying to
strike the indistinct road among the tussocks, made by occasional wheels
to our house, but the marks, never very distinct in daylight, became
perfect will-o'-the-wisps at night. If we crossed a sheep-track we
joyfully announced that we had found the way, but only to be undeceived
the next moment by discovering that we were returning to the creek.

From time to time we fell into and over Spaniards, and what was left of
our clothes and our flesh the wild Irishmen devoured. We must have
got home somehow, or I should not be writing an account of it, at this
moment, but really I hardly know how we reached the house. I recollect
that the next day there was a great demand for gold-beater's skin, and
court-plaster, and that whenever F---- and Mr. U---- had a spare moment
during the ensuing week, they devoted themselves to performing surgical
operations on each other with a needle; and that I felt very subdued and
tired for a day or two. But there was no question of fever or cold, and
I was stared at when I inquired whether it was not dangerous to be out
all night in heavy dew after a broiling day.

We had the eels made into a pie by our shepherd, who assured me that if
I entrusted them to my cook she would send me up such an oily dish that
I should never be able to endure an eel again. He declared that the
Maoris, who seem to have rather a horror of grease, had taught him how
to cook both eels and wekas in such a way as to eliminate every particle
of fat from both. I had no experience of the latter dish, but he
certainly kept his wo