the peaceful loveliness of that spot. The water lay calm and blue at our feet, with the forest, the tree-ferns, and wooden buildings on the farther shore mirrored in it. A jetty, built on black piles, ran out into the water, and one or two boats were drawn upon the clean yellow sand. Some children were playing in the ripples at the edge, and a boat was just putting off from the landing-stage. It seemed the embodiment of peace. Years ago this place was surveyed, and a town mapped out; but it came to nothing, and the clearings have mostly gone back into bush, and only a few houses remain. Yet it is one of the few harbours a small steamer can enter on the Coast. Well, one day that little railway will come even to Okuru, and it will grow fast enough then!
We watched the boat slipping silently across, sending long lines of ripples wavering over the glassy surface. As it neared we saw it contained a passenger, who stepped ashore, and introduced himself as the schoolmaster. His coat was slung at his back and he carried a knapsack, and explained that in the long summer-vacation he spent his days tramping, thus visiting all his acquaintances. And whether it was 200 or 500 miles he covered in his six weeks’ walk, I can’t remember: he spoke airily of vast distances and scorned a horse. We chatted for some time; he told me of his school-children, whom he loved, and lamented that, now they were all growing up and leaving him, his school could no longer boast of
