_%C2%B7_Lowth_%C2%B7_217.jpg)
The Weka.
Chapter XXIX.
THE ARTHUR VALLEY.
“Rill after rill trailed down a-murmuring
From piny heights where lover winds did croon.”
The Major was standing in front of the huts, looking as exquisitely neat and well-groomed as if about to attend a meet of the County Hunt. But though of course we rejoiced in his immaculate appearance as befitting a worthy representative of Home and the Army, a simultaneous groan burst from us as we realised the tragedy of his presence. Where he was there also would the women be,—seven of them, and but one ladies’ hut! Dissolved like a beautiful prismatic soap-bubble were our prospects of comfort and rest.
Mrs Greendays turned a look of high resolve upon me. “I would rather sleep in a tree, Mary, than share the hut with those people!”
“So would I, darling!” I hastily replied. “Do you think you can manage any more walking?”
“I can manage anything but to sleep in a crowd!” she firmly declared.
Colonel Deane, Captain Greendays, and Mr. Inspector were by this time talking to the Major, so we went up to the women’s hut and knocked at the door. Someone called out “Come in!” and I opened it. What an atmosphere! The little room seemed to be full of women, the beds were all topsy-turvy, evidently untouched since they had risen that morning, and on a bench before a blazing log fire sat several of them. They were all looking at the door, and at the sight of us one, the chaperone, said,
