It was with great difficulty The Instigator could be persuaded to leave the plough, and at one time his enthusiasm (and the engine) carried him out of sight, and those remaining at the starting-point grew speculative as to whether he would return before dark. However, a recommencement of drizzling rain apparently cooled his ardour, and restored him to the party. The nomads gladly turned their thoughts and coaches towards the section house, realising as they went the sweet truth of the words, "The ploughman homeward plods his weary way." Lunch awaited them, and the fish of the morning appeared in a more pleasant guise, to be enjoyed by all. After lunch, the rain showing no signs of clearing off, the party had to give up all idea of the lake proper, but watched one form in front of the house instead, and wondered how it would be negotiated when the time came for an onward move. So they sat on chairs, baggage and benches under the verandah, and tried to keep awake, while observing the steady downpour. One member of the party at last gave up the struggle against the inevitable, and sank gracefully into the arms of Morpheus, represented by the bags of biscuits and other impedimenta. A photo was secured of him as he lay half concealed amongst the portmanteaux, packages and "pan." We refrain from publishing it, because the chief feature of the picture is in the boots of the sleeper. (We trust no weak humour is intended in the preceding paragraph?--EDITOR.) [Illustration: _Hart-Parr Engine, drawing Roadmaker_.] A slight diversion was caused by a repacking of some goods after lunch. It seems that the bottles, with contents (a most important item), had been forgotten, and The Wild Man was approached with a request that the bottles might be transported to Lucero in his bag; of course, he cheerily acquiesced, but as the whole of the contents of his bag had to be turned out to pack the bottles scientifically, and as that bag happened to be the same receptacle in which The Wild Man had secreted the various articles collected during his tour of appreciation this morning, developments were interesting to all, save to the man who had laboured under the delusion that several horns and other articles which appeared from the bag, were still in his own possession. However, probably remembering The Wild Man's character (_vide_ page 205), he said nothing, but calmly looked on as his goods were repacked and removed from his sight for ever. All honour to such unselfishness.