Cosiness of the Huts.

At the end of a long day in the good old out-of-doors what a welcome sight the hut can be when it first comes into view, for here, besides a much needed rest, we will have a wonderful meal, made—to your pleasant surprise—mostly from tinned foods. And a right royal meal it is, too.

Afterwards chairs are pulled round a cheerful blaze—a fire built of huge logs from the forest just outside—and then it's a case of “Have you heard this one?” or, better still, a jolly sing-song. However, before very long, smothered yawns here and there indicate bed, and we don't take over long tumbling into our bunks, which are mighty snug and cosy. A great silence closes in on us now, broken only by the strange call of a more-pork, or a weka, and sometimes, too, the thunder of an avalanche crashing down far away on the mountain side; but we are very tired, and sleep comes to us easily—sleep fortified by a generous supply of blankets.