82 COLLECTOR'S KAMBLES 



In the museum at Nelson were many bones of the 

 Moa labelled, " Collingwood caves;" and father con- 

 cluded to send me there, while he and Shelley went to 

 Wellington. 



The steamer in which I started was a regular tub, 

 smelling so strongty of grease that I began to feel sea- 

 sick the instant I stepped aboard, and was soon flat on 

 my back. If there is anything that makes a man dis- 

 gusted it is to be seasick when every one else is in high 

 spirits. This was my case ; and the merry clatter of 

 dishes, as the jovial passengers cracked their jokes at 

 dinner, was exasperating to me, lying in my bunk wres- 

 tling with a rebellious stomach, and getting very much 

 worsted in the struggle. It would seem by the spas- 

 modic contortions, and outlandish somersaults there, 

 that a party of devils were holding high carnival. 



We anchored just outside of Collingwood in the even- 

 ing, and went ashore in the small boat. 



Next morning I started on foot for the caves, which 

 were ten miles distant. The wagon road led across a 

 barren stretch of country, then turned off to the right, 

 and followed the course of a turbid stream. Dark, 

 rocky mountains, some of them covered with snow, rose 

 ahead. The sky was overcast with heavy clouds, and 

 distant thunder could be heard. Now and then I 

 passed a miner's cabin, where half a dozen red-headed 

 children would be seen, flattening their noses against 

 the window-panes to view the passing traveller. 



