The Rakaia, Ashburton, and Rangitata had been crossed in this way, and we had reached the Otaio, a smaller river, when we found a new mode of transport awaiting us.

A large dray with a couple of powerful horses was in readiness, and into this springless vehicle we were unceremoniously bundled.

The empty coach and horses was driven over at another part of the stream.

I shall never forget the jolting: the river must have been at least a quarter of a mile wide at that reach, and over its bed of boulders and rocks we bumped In the middle stretched a long strip of shingle, which seemed as smooth as turf by contrast with the first half of the river-bed.

When we charged into the water again our driver removed his pipe from his mouth, looked over his shoulder and remarked, "River's come down since mornin'; best tuck up your feet, marms all." I can answer for this "marm" tucking up her feet with great agility, and not a moment too soon either, for as a light wind was blowing, a playful wave came rippling over and through the planked floor of the dray, floating all the smaller parcels about.