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216 he meant it, and he said, your Mana was too strong, he had to own he was wrong." That untranslatable Maori word, which means a something of personal influence and rightful authority.

On my return journey, rain and flood delayed the coach at the foot of the Otira Pass, where we had to remain for the night, in a rough shanty, which leaked like a sieve, but provided us with plenty of food and fire. Several weather-bound miners were there, and conversation took place about a fatal accident which had befallen some prospectors in the neighbourhood, who were camped in a deep ravine, which cuts through the flanks of the Wilberforce ranges. One night a furious flood came down upon them, sweeping away tents and men as they slept. Two escaped, the third was discovered some days later, smothered in sand and shingle, and, said the narrator, "the curious thing was that the poor chap had his blanket still round him, and, gripped fast in one hand, a chess board, like a small backgammon board, closed, with the men inside held in their places with pegs; the other chaps told us that John Davies used to play chess by himself in his tent, at night, after he had turned in."

Have you never noticed, St. John, that, now and then, there are happenings which seem providentially meant for yourself, bringing messages which are of encouragement or warning, from those whom you once knew in life? The man's story meant much to me. Had I not been by chance detained on my journey, I might never have heard again of my old friend, John Davies. "I can tell you something of him," I said. "Some years ago, before I left the Coast, I made friends with him at Ross. He had been