Page:Through South Westland.djvu/210

122 give place before the fire and the axe, but the memory of it, as I saw it in my brief sojourn, can never pass away.

So, as the sun sank behind the purple barrier of the western mountains, out-lining their edges in gold: and their long shadows stretched across the plain: and the harvesters came back in the gloaming: I said. Farewell.