The tiny cabin was not the pleasantest place in the world, but there we were penned up for about three hours, cold, cramped, and comfortless, while the little windows showed only weeping hills through a veil of rain and mist. But about an hour before we reached the head of the lake the rain ceased and the face of nature changed as suddenly and completely as it had that day at Hokitika, and joyfully we went on deck again, our quartette to the fore-part of the deck, where we sat silent, spell-bound by the beauty of the scene.
Towering cold and white against the blue sky were the great mountains in the distance, behind emerald hills whose trees stood out individually in the clear atmosphere, and close to the water’s edge blazed the rata, flaunting its crimson boldly among the surrounding graces of the tree-ferns and palms. Every moment disclosed new pictures, fresh groupings of foliage and flower, different curves and crevices in the hills, with waterfalls leaping down in their hurry to reach the lake.
And then, just as Colonel Deane pointed out the outlet of the Clinton River, we ran alongside the wharf at the head of the lake.
We were met by one of the Government Inspectors, who was in charge of the track, and had had a letter from Mr Donne informing him of our coming. He said that he had reserved a guide for us, but would, if we liked, go with us himself instead, at which of course we were very pleased and recognised that he was paying us a great compliment, as he was certainly not likely to travel burdened with even a moderate bundle, for choice, unless he wished to do great honour to his guests.
Mr. Inspector then led the way through a lovely glade to the Government Accommodation House called after it, where he advised us to stay for that night and commence our walk next day. A crowd of people were on the lawn, carefully swathed in veils, both men and women, with a cloud of sandflies buzzing about their heads. They were on their way back from Milford. Mrs Greendays and I surveyed them with much interest and were gratified to see that they looked none the worse for their journey. Some of them were very smart indeed; one lady had on a hat that might have come from well,—the Parisian Hat Company; another whispered of silk attire as she moved, a third wore French heels, but none of them indicated the hard fare and troublous pilgrimage we had been told to expect. It was not until they had gone that we found they had shed their mountaineering garb and changed into ordinary clothes when they arrived at Glade House!
While we were at luncheon we learned that all the people who had come over with us on the launch were going on at once, so we promptly decided to take Mr. Inspector’s advice, and stay overnight at Glade House.
We very soon had the place to ourselves after we had watched the departure of the others, the one man among seven ladies, five of whom were spinsters. They had one and all disdained the idea of guides, even the elderly chaperone, and they set off most valiantly, some carrying big “swags,” some carrying small
