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A buggy had been sent from Rotorua to meet us at Waimangu, and in it we set off early on Sunday morning for Taupo, via Wai-o-tapu.

This route took us past the Rainbow Mountain, so called from the vari-coloured chalks and clays that form part of its composition, and give it a strangely unreal appearance. The district is rather a desolate one, very barren save for the flax-beds or swamps which in the distance lead one to expect a flourishing homestead, so like green fields of waving corn are they. And the road, owing to the light soil and the utter absence of metal or gravel, is frightfully dusty, but fortunately we had dust-cloaks and motor veils which saved us considerably. Rh