We worked in relays, ten men chopping, ten men clearing away the cut brushwood, while the remaining twenty men held the workers’ carbines and rested, two men out of each section of four working at a time. Now I was in the second relief, Tim and myself having to replace Jack and Hutton, so that when spell-o was called we pushed forward, handing them their own and our carbines and taking from them the axes they had been using. Stepping forward I approached Jack to hand him the carbines, when he noticed my hands, which were much swollen and quite raw. “’Ere, look ’ere, mate,” growled the old grumbler, “yer mud hooks ain’t fit for this ’ere job, just you hold the ruddy carbines. Old Jack does your spell. Oh, clap a stopper over your jaw. You ain’t no blankity blank shirker, and if any blooming swine guys yer they’ll come athwart Jack’s hawser, d--n ’em. Now you shove off.” And all the day the old ruffian did my work for me, helped occasionally by Hutton, who reported my state to Mr Roach. The latter took me to the surgeon of the 14th, who did what he could for me, but I was unable to do any more axe-work that trip. It would be tedious for me to recapitulate that miserable march day by day; suffice it to say that every day the same work had to be done, gullies had to be bridged or roads cut down their banks, and these gullies and rivers grew more numerous as we reached our destination. On the night of the fourth day the last of our rations was consumed, horseflesh being issued in lieu, but the downpour of rain, that never ceased for a moment, prevented any chance of cooking the raw sodden lumps of flesh served out to us. On the same night the Colonel’s brother, Ensign McDonnell, volunteered to push on and try to bring a relief party out to meet us. He started next morning, reaching the frontier post the same night, and at once started back again, guiding a relief party of soldiers loaded with food. These met us on the evening of the sixth day, on the morning of which the General had sent on the Maoris. This supply of food, small as it was--my share consisted of one biscuit--was much appreciated, and on the morning of the seventh day we extricated ourselves from the infernal bush, and as we did so the rain suddenly ceased and the glorious sun shone out. Never before, do I suppose, has such a gang of wretched-looking objects ever been mustered: drenched and sodden by five days and nights of unceasing rain, plastered from head to foot with mud, our clothes torn to rags by the bush, hung in dripping shreds, while our unshorn faces, filthy equipment and rusty weapons made a picture I shall never forget.