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108 like draughts of water to the thirsty for they assured us that the eternal hills were there behind the concealing clouds, and they spoke of glad to-morrows when the broken promises of the to-days should be fulfilled.

We halted, breathless and wet to the skin from head to heel, in the little hut at the foot of the hill, where Mr. Inspector insisted on a pause while he boiled a “billy,” though we were only two miles from the huts where we meant to stay. I was afraid that the halt would make us cold and stiff and wanted to go straight on, but the others seemed to think it best to stay. And no sooner had Mrs Greendays recovered her breath than she politely but convincingly delivered her opinion of our judgment in even proposing such an expedition. Was it surprising that she was furious? That she, the sedate, comfort-loving, highly-organised, carefully tended Englishwoman should be brought to such a place by her own husband, to be hustled and dragged, blown about and buffeted, in danger of her life at every step; and now that she had providentially escaped being dashed to atoms the cold that pierced her to the bone would undoubtedly cause her to perish slowly of consumption if she did not die that night of pneumonia.

This storm was far more paralysing than the other, but while we all sat silent under it Mr. Inspector suddenly rushed into the breach when there was a momentary pause.

“Consumption? Pneumonia? Oh, never, my dear lady! This is the most extraordinary climate for the lungs. I’ve known people wet for days and nights on end and no harm come of it. No one ever takes cold at Milford, and if they come with one they get rid of it in no time.”

And then he sprang a delightful surprise upon us, for he filled the cups with a white, foaming, delicately fragrant liquid.

Milk?

How could it be milk in this desert?

It’s a New Zealand Speciality,” he explained. “Dried milk, the real thing simply made into a powder, and all we have to do is to mix it with boiling water. I always find it picks one up better than tea, and we keep a tin in every hut in case of need.”

Mrs Greendays was actually speechless with surprise and pleasure, and we seized the moment to make our peace. Colonel Deane handed her some biscuits from another of Mr. Inspector’s store of tins. I took off her soaking cloth gaiters and after wringing them out put them to the fire to dry, and Captain Greendays gently drew out the pins from her Panama and shook the water out of it. And the dear angry little lady looked round at us all as we waited upon her, and laughed.

“You deserved it all, didn’t you?” she said, “and I feel ever so much better now that I have had a good grumble, so forget all about it. Only I must say this, Tom, I do think you might have done as I begged you and put off this