CHAPTER V 
Lbttbr IV. Napier {c(mt.). — New Plymouth — At Ferndale — A 
ride for life — Old friends — Cruelty — Fann life — A subject for an artist 
— More dear old friends — An unprofitable prophet — Native houses — 
Miss Dobie's grave. 
We left Wanganui at three in the afternoon by train 
for New Plymouth. The town was soon left behind, 
the homesteads became more scattered and the country 
broken up into fern-covered ridges, with deep gorges, 
running brooks, tall poplars, and waving willows. 
Then on, past wooded hills, scrubs, rolling downs, 
and on through swamp and sandhills close along the 
shore to the country towns of Patea and Hawera, 
with rich volcanic soil ten feet and twelve feet deep. 
As the sun went down, a fresh crisp air blew in upon 
us through the open windows, and the clear-cut snowy 
cap of Mount Egmont came into sight, with its perfect 
cone of 8200 feet, towering above us. No wonder 
that Taranaki is proud of its mountain and the many 
never-failing springs fed from its reservoir of eternal 
snow. I first made its acquaintance long ago, from 
the sea, when there was only an open roadstead at 
New Plymouth, and we were sent ashore in whale- 
boats. There was no breakwater there then and the 
iron horse was here unknown. As the train rushed 
into New Plymouth at ten o'clock at night, I strained 
my eyes through the sea of faces to catch some familiar 
p 
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