Page:Through South Westland.djvu/58



who go to Ross do not usually visit it for pleasure—though I once knew a lady who spent a week there, but I think it was because she could not go any farther. It is strictly a place that minds its own business, which is gold-getting; and those who go there, go either directly or indirectly because of the gold. It is rather a fascinating place, reminding one a little of a French town, with its houses perched about on reddish-coloured hills from which the bush has been cleared. There is no attempt at regularity, it straggles about, up and down the hills, and a very little way outside, the bush closes in again and rolls away, range beyond range, hill beyond hill, clothed as with dark green fur. To seawards a yellow flat stretches to the sand-dunes. Gaunt, dead trees stand on the flat, and a ragged forest of white-pine borders it; there are pools and bogs surrounded