even down a steep hill; four well-bred horses, with a minimum of harness, the driver sitting almost level with his team, wielding a whip, short in the handle and long in the lash, thicker in its centre than an ordinary English lash, and terminating in a flat thong, which descends with great effect and precision. Each day we do about a hundred miles, with stables and change of horses every twenty miles, a short halt allowed for breakfast and luncheon. The first forty miles on the plains which gradually rise to the hill country would be monotonous, were it not for the splendid snow-clad ranges which seem to change their shape and increase in height hourly as you approach them. Fortunately the weather was brilliant; in bad weather the "outsides" need the best waterproofs yet invented. Winding in and out the lower hills, we come to Porter's Pass, a two mile ascent, of very steep gradient, a mere shelf cut in the side of a great spur, which takes you over three thousand feet. This means walking for all, as a rule. Then for the rest of the day, inside the first great dividing range of the alps, the road runs through country covered with tussock grass, and only wooded here and there, but across it innumerable streams, and some rivers full of boulders, and at times in strong flood. Bridges nowhere; but the horses here are amphibious animals, quite at home in rough water. With a few exceptions of flat ground, everywhere the road may be said to be dangerous, though well made, and fairly smooth underfoot: narrow ledges cut in solid rock, with overhanging cliffs and deep precipices below; deep ravines where it is not possible to avoid very steep gradients; sharp corners on a cliff side, round which you almost lose sight of the leaders; no room for a
