circuit of several miles. At last, about two p.m., I reached the lake, to my great satis-
fection. I killed a robin to snare wood-hens with, or for a bait to catch eels at night. I ascended a peak where I could get a good view of the neighbourhood, and I saw smoke rising up in the distance, most likely from some Maoris come here to fish; but it might possibly be Howitt and his party. I went to-
wards it, going along the lake up to my arms in water, and about a mile further I heard the blow of an axe, and a short time after saw a tent and some men. It was Howitt; I was saved.

I told my story briefly, but already the billy hung over the fire, and a wood-hen and an eel were put on the coals; and, while continuing an account of my adventures, enjoyed a hearty meal. We all lamented sincerely the loss of poor Mr. Whitcombe.

One of the men gave me a pair of dry trousers, another a jacket, and so I found myself once more in a suit of good clothes. Mr. Howitt then proposed to send me with his two horses to Mr. Taylor’s station, which gave me great satisfaction, although I felt very weak. I had a good supper, bed, and breakfast; he gave me then as much provisions as I would have—bread, tea, sugar and matches. He had made a canoe for his own use, in which he and one of his party put me across the lake, saving me more than a day’s very bad travelling.

After some trouble they caught the horses, saddled them, and put my little swag on one, leaving the other for me to ride. The Maoris had told me I could not cross the saddle, from the depth of the snow. Howitt said he thought they were right, but I could try it. If it was too deep, I had only to return the same road. He advised me to hurry as much as possible, while the fine weather continued; to drive fast, and not spare the horses; saying, besides, that the old grey horse knew every inch of the road; so that I could even ride during the night, if I liked; and so forth. I thanked Mr. Howitt for this, the third time I had enjoyed his hospitality, took a hasty farewell, and rode the same evening to the Teramakau; night had come on; so, having found a little grass, I unsaddled, to pass the night there. I tethered one horse with a long rope, well knowing that the other would not stray far alone, made a fire and some tea, and succeeded in snaring two fat wood-hens, on which I made a hearty meal.

About midnight I heard the tethered horse making off, having broken his rope and gone off looking for better feed. I followed him and caught him after a run of nearly a mile. As this might occur again I determined to go on, although the night was very dark, the horses knew the way; I saddled them,

riding one and driving the one with the pack in front of me. I let the bridle hang loose on my horse’s neck, and nearly fell asleep on his back. Suddenly I heard the first horse enter the river—mine followed; I left him to go his own way, as I could not see. I never was a good rider, and had not ridden much for some years. Suddenly my horse stumbled and fell on his knees, throwing me over his head into the water; I kept a hold of the bridle; when he gained his feet I pulled him to me, and taking hold of the stirrup, made him draw me out on dry land. Except the wetting I was not the least hurt, and could not avoid laughing at the mishap.

When I had ridden on a little distance, they came to a dead halt, nor could I get them to go any further. On dismounting I saw the reason at once: it was an old camping ground, where they had been accustomed to stay overnight. I took the saddles off and made breakfast, letting them feed for an hour. I rode on afterwards to the foot of the saddle, where I arrived towards evening, and it was too rough to go any further that day. Next day it rained; I drove both horses before me; they went so fast I had great difficulty to keep up with them. Presently the rain changed to snow, but the horses knew the track so well I did not mind it. There was very little of the old snow remaining, and what was then falling could not hinder me much. About three o’clock I came to the hut before described, where the men were to wait for us. They did not recognise me, without my old cap, but asked with astonishment where I came from; whether I belonged to Howitt’s party, and if I had seen anything of two men—Mr. Whitcombe and Louper. "You must be mad," I said; "give me some mutton, if you have any." "Oh!" said George (the youngest), "it is Jacob; now I know him; where is Mr. Whitcombe?" "He is dead," I answered, and then told them everything.

It rained all night and next day, but we went as far as Lake Sumner, and passed the night in another old hut, and the following day reached Mr. Taylor’s station. As soon as he heard of the death of Mr. Whitcombe he came to see me, with Mrs. Taylor, who brought me some cake, and a good warm drink; he also gave me a blanket, and pressed me to stay a few days to rest myself; he immediately despatched one of his men to acquaint Mr. Whitcombe’s family with their sad loss before the news could reach town.

We started, however, the next morning, and reached Christchurch in five days, without further accident.

(Signed)

JACOB LOUPER,
Swiss.