From Anna Bay we returned to Wallsend, where we said goodbye to Sister Haworth and Eric, and commenced our journey north. Our objective point was the Nambucca River, some distance from which it was expected we should encounter a Seventh Day Adventist in discussion. Consequently we pushed through to our destination within a week, staying only to conduct Sunday services at Bulahdelah and a night service at Laurieton. We stopped over night with several of the Saints en route, having to seek hotel acommodations only one night.

Elders W. J. Haworth and E. F. Robertson camped en route.

We had cooking utensils along and contrived to cook some very creditable meals. It was winter time and hot meals were a desideratum. As we rested the horse for two hours each meal time there was ample time for cooking.

The scenery by the way was varied. Now the way lay along fertile but small river flats, from which the golden harvest of corn had not been gathered. Further on, the way led us over barren hills where the forest giants proudly reared their mighty heads against the sky. The summit gained, down into the valley we went, where on either side the paddocks (pasture inclosures) proclaimed the home of the dairy farmer. Down by a rippling stream lowing cattle stood, while from far above them in the lush, green grass comes the answering "moo" of another section of the herd. In a smaller paddock, yonder, may be seen the thriving "poddies" (calves fed by hand with separated milk) and behind them the stockyard with its white cowsheds and numerous milking bails,

while still farther in the distance stands the homestead. Truly a picture of peace and plenty. The north coast is the paradise of the dairy farmer. Australian butter finds a ready sale on the London market and a good dairy farm is a splendid asset. The scrub is felled (for our lands are heavily covered with either forest or brush growth) and after the burning, the land is sown with paspalum dilitatum, Rhodes' grass, rye, cocksfoot, lambstongue, clover and other grasses. Because of its vigorous, hardy nature, and its capacity for killing out weeds and other rubbish, the first named seems to be favorite. It is green (though short) in the worst drought, and is a native of South America.

Here we cross a majestic river by means of a fine bridge, while farther on we ferried across another on a government "punt." Again we began to ascend the hills. The scent of wattle blossoms is in the air, and presently we are following a road with a glorycrowned hedge on either side. The wattle and the waratah are our national flowers. The waratah does not thrive on the north coast, but late in August and early September the bush is glorified by the golden wattle which grows in luxuriant profusion on hill and in dell. What joy to travel through it, feasting the eyes upon the varied shades, from palest yellow to richest gold, and inhaling the delicate perfume, while the soul is filled with the poetry of life and the heart swells with love and gratitude to the heavenly Father for the many beautiful evidences of his care and loving thought! Of experiences we had a few, but one that stands out long to be remembered, was enjoyed (?) just before we arrived at our destination. "Tommy," the horse, was thirsty, and we knew there was water in the river, so instead of driving across the bridge, we forded the stream. The water was as clear as crystal at the crossing and seemed to be quite shallow, but, like lots of things in Australia, it proved to be somewhat deceptive. When about the middle of the stream we felt that our bocks were getting wet, and finding the water was filling the tray of the sulky, we became apprehensive of the state of our clothes, which were in a tin trunk suspended in a carrier immediately beneath the seat. We hastened "Tommy's" progress and as soon as we came to high ground let down the trunk and investigated. Sure enough, water had found its way in around. the edges of the lid and the clothing around the sides and at the bottom was thoroughly soaked. Some articles were stained by the dye from books. A red-bound copy of The Fall of Babylon lay upon the bosom of a white starched shirt; it made a lasting impression. We carefully deposited the clothes on the roadside, wrung the water from those that required it, emptied more from the trunk and then piling the things in again, went our way, wiser if not sadder men. It is good at times to possess the "saving grace of humor." Sr. M. J. Ballard attended to our wet things as soon as we arrived, as also to our temporal wants for the next two weeks. We found that there was no prospect of the anticipated debate, owing to the absence of our would-be opponent, so contented ourselves with doing what labor offered in the vicinity of Argents Hill for a couple of weeks; and then as there was a call for labor further

up the coast in practically new fields, we wended our way further north. While at Argents Hill we preached and visited a good deal and generally enjoyed our spiritual intercourse with the Saints and friends of the vicinity. We also solemnized a double wedding. From Argents Hill we drove to Bellingen, thirty miles, where we visited with Srs. Allie and Islett Ballard for the next day. The sisters rarely meet with the Saints, and appreciated our visit. From there we traveled to Corindi (fifty miles) where we were heartily welcomed by Bro. and Sr. Richard McLaughlin and family. Here we did some more preaching and then went on to Grafton, another thirty miles, where we were entertained by Bro. and Sr. Rees Thomas. Brother Thomas has a mine thirty-three miles northwest of this point, but it is only in the prospecting stage. His mate, Mr. Albert Denning, had long been interested, and being thoroughly acquainted with the work by reading our tracts and the Gospel Standard, was desirous of being baptized. We went up there to attend to the ordinance, but as there was no accommodation for us at the camp we did not stay more than one night, when we were kindly entertained by a neighbor about two miles away. Here Brother Robertson had a five-hour across table discussion with the host, but failed to impress him with the truth of the message, because, as he admitted at the close, he would not be convinced.

We returned to Corindi, where we did some more preaching and baptized another. Here we had another day at the seaside. We had a good time in the breakers,-Brother Robertson and I. The other members of the party (all males) preferred the smooth water inside the river, but we had tasted of the joys of surfing and took our natatorial fun on the beach. Surfing is brusque, exhilarating sport. Here there was a fierce rush of surging billows all day long. The waves rolled in across the river entrance and rushed obliquely along the beach. We went out into the boiling foam above waist deep to where the huge rollers broke with a deafening roar above us, and catching us up in their mad rush bore us swiftly to the shore, and left us stranded on the sand. This is what they call "shooting the breakers." It is fine, vigorous sport, and brings the glow of health to its devotee. We had boiled fish, caught by some one else, for dinner. The surf had whetted our appetites and the fish was good. We gathered bunches of beautiful wild flowers off the plains and returned home in one of those sudden semitropical thunderstorms.

From Corindi we returned to Bellingen. The road runs along the coast. All day long we could hear the thud and roar of the breakers on the beaches. Sometimes, when we were in the valleys, the sea was hidden from our view; but when upon the hilltop or on the level, many delightful ocean views were presented to our appreciative vision. Here and there were pretty little lagoons separated from the vast ocean by narrow strips of scrub-clad sand. Innumerable little bays, fringed with green leaved trees and shrubs which cast their reflections in the water, were a recurrent delight.

Between Bellingen and Argents Hill, we were treated to some delightful mountain scenery. The north coast mountains are not high enough to be snow-capped, but they furnish some fine views,

nevertheless. The road winds its way by fairly easy grades around the range. Above, the forest-clad summit towers in majestic grandeur. Below, you look down upon the tops of the tall timber and try to calculate the height of the forest giants. At several points we cross the heads of gullies (or gulches) from one spur to another. Here the forest and the brush land meet and blending in beautiful harmony enhance the beauty of the scene. The side of the cutting is fringed with ferns, the large fronds reaching out into the road. Below, the gully looks like a huge, inverted, triumphal arch extending for a quarter of a mile before it is obscured by a bend. Bangalow palms, fern trees, cabbage tree palms, trees with trailing vines, tamarind trees laden with pendant, golden fruit, and currajongs with their pink and white flowers, all mingle in luxuriant profusion and make a scene too grand and beautiful for the descriptive power of this weak pen.

We had some experiences on this north end trip. In the first one the joke was on the writer. When we reached the scene we have attempted to describe above, it was decided to take a photo. The camera and tripod were taken out and manouvered into the correct position. The exposure was made and we went on our way rejoicing in the thought that we had a photograph of a lovely scene. Imagine our surprise, when, on investigation that night, we found that the whole batch of plates had been put into the magazine camera with the carrier backs to the lens! animated "dark-room" conversation was the cause of the disappointment.

An

In the next "experience" the joke was on Brother Robertson. The night before leaving Bellingen we had arranged to rise at 4 o'clock a. m., feed "Tommy" and eat breakfast preparatory to a 5 o'clock, a. m. start. Accordingly we were up at 3.45 a. m. I attended to the packing of our clothing and loading it into the sulky. Brother Robertson went in search of "Tommy" and had an "exciting" experience. To use his own expressions, the "paddock" was "as dark as a stack of black cats." It was the darkest hour before the dawn. Presently he heard an animal "tearing off the grass" and approached with the utmost caution. "Tommy" is, under some circumstances, rather difficult to catch. Calling out, "Whoa, Tommy," in soothing tones at regular intervals, he steadily approached until he had his arm around the "old fellow's" neck. The nosebag was quickly in position and the "triumphal journey" back to the house begun. "Tommy" seemed to lead rather heavily and to move very slowly, so Brother Robertson became suspicious and began to "feel" the animal. The discovery of an elongated hip bone nearly protruding through the skin confirmed his suspicion, and the animal was set adrift and another search begun for the real "Tommy." A noise is heard in the distance. Again comes the repeated soothing, "Whoa, Tommy," and again a stealthy approach is made. This time his hand comes into contact, not with a horse's neck, but with a loose board on a fence, shaking about in the wind and making the "false alarm." The search is given up in disgust and a retreat to the house begun. At the gate the writer

met him. He was "breathing out threatening and slaughter" against the fellow who had left the gate open, for he had by this time discovered that "Tommy" was not in the paddock. He had found the gate open on the journey down but did not think the horse could have found the opening in the dark. The prospect of a thirty mile journey back to Argents Hill on foot had robbed our brother's countenance of its usual cheerful expression. Breakfast was eaten to the accompaniment of various sallies designed to restore the missing smile. The smile "wouldn't come off." But when, after breakfast, "Tommy" was found with a team of other horses in another "paddock" within a hundred yards, the broad expanse of returning smile was seen coming down the road with a horse at the rear of it.

The remaining "experience" again put the joke on the writer. Coming from Grafton we took a "short cut" to Corindi. The way

lay through the "bush" and the "track" was meager. On the journey my overcoat disappeared over the back of the sulky and was not missed until long after our destination had been reached and the shades of night were falling.

Rising at daylight, next morning, I went on foot to search for it, believing it was not far back. Imagine our surprise when mile after mile was traversed with no sign of the missing coat. We found it at the end of seven miles; so, with the return journey, we walked fourteen miles before breakfast that morning.

We spent another week at Argents Hill, during which we solemnized another wedding. Then we began our return journey south. Laurieton was reached at the end of the second day's travel. There we held service the next night after and left for Johns River the day after. Here we remained a week, visiting and preaching in the vicinity and at Moorland. Then we went further south, calling on the Saints at Crocki, Ghinni, and Taree, then on to Avalon, where we remained visiting and preaching for about a week. From there we made our way to Tuncurry, where we also put in another five days. Leaving there for Bungwahl, we had our sulky ferried across the harbor on a small row boat. "Tommy" swam behind. A drive over a long, sandy moor and along some very rough road brought us to Bungwahl, where we were the guests of Bro. and Sr. G. H. Parker for two nights and a day. We admired the variety of wild flowers seen upon the moor, all sorts and colors; but the most beautiful of all was the pure white flannel daisy. Many of these grow on one stem, and it is not difficult to gather a large bunch. The blossoms are of the daisy shape, but like pure white flannel to the touch. They last in water for several weeks. We took a beautiful bunch with us. From Bungwahl we went to Bulahdelah, where the Saints of the Port Stephens neighborhood were holding a rally day, the last Sunday in October. Here Sister Haworth and Eric rejoined us. Bishop and Sister Lewis, with a motor-boat load of Saints from New Castle and Anna Bay, also arrived the following day. Preaching and social services were held from Saturday night till Sunday night; a pleasant, spiritual time being had.

For the remainder of the journey south Sister Haworth and I