Page:Through South Westland.djvu/173

cleared land, then through swamp and sand dunes to the shore, and the tide being high our progress was but slow in the soft sand. At high tide there is a long string of pools, into which the big combers rush with terrifying force; they kept poor Tom in a desperate state of nervousness as we splashed through. I was glad when a post directed us to a lovely woodland way, under high spreading trees and welcome shade. It was really a “made” bit of road, and we cantered off gaily, glad to be off the shingle of the beach. Quite suddenly we came on a deep, blue river, whose waters were backed up by the high tide—we could see the waves breaking in sheets of foam over the bar at its mouth. It was a lovely scene, this lonely blue water, as it curled and rippled under the trees and varied growth of the banks; but we could see no further road, nor ford, nor post to mark one. Reluctantly we retraced our steps back to the beach, and rode on until we came to a shed; and in the shed, oh! surprising Okuru, a telephone. Of late these useful inventions for summoning help to cross the rivers had usually been defunct, so it was with doubtful eagerness we rang. We waited five minutes—ten—another ring and this time an answering one came, and we went down through sand hills to a landing-stage. There, across the lagoon, lay the little settlement, shut in by bush and backed by purple mountains. A river empties itself into the lagoon at either end, and Okuru lies between them. I cannot describe

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