ading
tales of wild life in America and elsewhere; they contained a peculiar
attraction for me, and influenced my mind in no small degree detrimental
to continuing my studies for the Army or any specified profession at
home.

When I first proposed what was in my mind it created somewhat of a
sensation in the old home, and my father would not hear of any such
madness as to throw up my studies after having advanced so far, and go
away to the antipodes on a mere wild-goose chase, etc. On consulting his
friends, however, many advised him to let me have my will; others (more
wisely perhaps) expressed their opinions that I should be forced to
resume my work, and that the ill-health was imagination, or foxing! (I
have often since been inclined to agree with the latter supposition.)

The final decision, however, was that I should emigrate to Canterbury,
New Zealand, in the following April. This colony was at that time about
fourteen years' old, and was highly thought of as a field for youthful
enterprise, and it was then the fashion to consider such tendencies as I
expressed to be an omen of future success which should not be baulked.

A young friend, C----, son of a neighbouring squire, offered to
accompany me as my chum and partner. He was six years my senior, and had
had considerable experience in farming, so was considered very suitable
for a colonial life; whereas I knew literally nothing of farming or
anything else beyond my school work.

Our preparations were put in hand, and our passages booked by the good
ship "Mary Anne," to sail from St. Katherine's Docks, London, on April
29th, 1859.

When all was finally settled my elation was supreme. The feeling that
school grind was past and gone, that the world was open to me, and that
I was free to do and act as I would was exhilarating. I felt that I had
already attained to manhood, and that the world was at my feet, and a
glorious life before me; well, I suppose most boys prematurely let loose
would think the same, and I don't know that it is any harm to start
under the circumstances with a hopeful and happy heart.

The day of parting at length arrived. It was a bright and lovely
morning, about the middle of April, when I said goodbye to all my
playmates at the old home, took a last look at the guns and
fishing-rods, visited the various animals in the stables, gave a loving
embrace to the great Newfoundland Juno, whom I could not hope to see
again, submitted to be ble