his food, and as much alcohol as he could get. I believe he was
never unfit to mark, and never quite sober. He died at his post, but not
before he had learned that he had succeeded to the baronetcy, and seen
relatives who had come from home to search for and bring him back. It is
a strange error of judgment which sends such men as this to the
Colonies, but perhaps those who are responsible consider they are
justified by the removal of the scapegrace and finally getting rid of
him by any means.

On our return to Christchurch I met my old friend and fellow voyager T.
Smith, who had just been appointed overseer of a sheep and cattle
station down south. He pressed me to accompany him to the locality,
pending arrival of letters from home, and as I had nothing just then on
hand, I accepted his invitation. It seemed very apparent that I was fast
becoming a rolling stone, but though I stuck to nothing long, it was not
altogether my fault, and I was always at work, increasing my stock of
experience, such as it was. This departure to Smith's station on the
Ashburton led me away on an entirely new line for some time.

The station to which Smith had been appointed overseer was about 100
miles from Christchurch. The owner did not live there, so the entire
management was in Smith's hands. The route lay across the Canterbury
plains by a defined cart track, with accommodation houses at certain
distances along its course, so no camping out was needed.

The Canterbury Plains are supposed to be the finest in the world,
extending as they do, about 150 miles in length by 40 to 60 in width,
and over this immense space there was not a forest tree or scarcely a
shrub of any size to be met with, except a description of palm, called
cabbage trees, which grow in parts along the river beds, and
occasionally dot the adjacent plain. The plains are almost perfectly
flat, with no undulations more than a few feet in height. They are
intersected every ten to twenty miles by wide shallow river beds, which
during the summer months, when the warm nor'-westers melt the snow and
ice on the Alps, are often terrific torrents, impassable for days
together, while at other times they are shingle interspersed with clear
rapid streams, more or less shallow, and generally fordable with
ordinary care. Some of the principal rivers such as the Rakaia,
Rangatata and Waitaki, are at all times formidable.

The Rakaia bed, for example, is, or was, nearly half a mile wid