In the Land of the Long White Cloud

to a close. As the
Dublin
sailed through the Tasmanian Sea between Australia and New Zealand, the passengers tried to outdo one another with rumors about how close they were to their new country. Many were already camping out on deck every morning before the sun rose to be the first to catch sight of their new homeland.
    Elizabeth was torn when Jamie O’Hara woke her for that purpose once, but Helen ordered her sternly to remain in bed. She knew from Gwyneira that it would still be two or three days before land came into view, and then the captain would inform them right away.
    It finally happened, though, in the bright light of late morning: the captain had the ship’s sirens wail, and within seconds all the passengers had assembled on the main deck. Gwyneira and Gerald stood in the front row, of course, unable to see anything but clouds at first. A long, drawn-out white layer of cotton obscured the land. If the crew had not assured the passengers that the South Island was hiding behind it, they would not have paid any attention to that particular cloud.
    Only as they neared the shore did mountains begin to emerge from the fog, jagged contours of rock behind which were more clouds. It looked so strange, as though the mountains were floating on a sea of luminous, cottony white clouds.
    “Is it always so foggy?” Gwyneira asked, sounding unenthused. As lovely as the view was, she could well imagine the damp and chilly ride through the pass that separated Christchurch from where the deep-sea ship would be landing. The harbor, Gerald had explained to her, was called Lyttelton. The area was still under construction, and there was a laborious climb to even the first houses. To reach Christchurchproper, people would have to walk or ride. The path was at times so steep and difficult that horses familiar with the path had to be led by the bridle. Hence the path’s name: the Bridle Path.
    Gerald shook his head. “No. It’s rather unusual for travelers to be offered such a view. And it’s surely a lucky sign.” He smiled, obviously happy to see his home again. “That is to say that the land revealed itself to the first travelers, who came by canoe from Polynesia to New Zealand, in the same way. That explains New Zealand’s Maori name—Aotearoa, ‘Land of the Long White Cloud.’”
    Helen and her girls gazed, awestruck, at nature’s theater.
    Daphne, however, seemed concerned. “There aren’t any houses,” she said, puzzled. “Where are the docks and the harbor buildings? Where are the church steeples? I only see clouds and mountains. It’s nothing like London.”
    Helen attempted to laugh encouragingly, although at heart she shared Daphne’s fears. She too was a city girl, and this abundance of nature seemed eerie to her. Still, she had at least seen a variety of English landscapes, whereas the girls knew only the streets of the capital.
    “Of course it’s not London, Daphne,” she explained. “The cities here are much smaller. But Christchurch has its steeples too, and it will be getting its own great cathedral, just like Westminster Abbey! You can’t see the houses yet because we’re not landing right in the city. We must…well, we must still walk a bit to—”
    “Walk a bit?” Gerald Warden had overheard Helen and laughed thunderously. “I can only hope, Miss Davenport, that your wonderful fiancé sends you a mule. Otherwise, you’ll wear out the soles of your city shoes before the day is out. The Bridle Path is a narrow, mountainous path, slippery and wet from fog. And after the fog lifts, it gets pretty darn warm. But, Gwyneira, look there, that’s Lyttelton Harbor!”
    The rest of the passengers shared Gerald’s excitement as the lifting fog now exposed a pear-shaped bay to view. According to Gerald, this natural harbor had volcanic origins. The bay was surrounded by mountains, and a few houses and landings were becoming visible.
    “Don’t worry,” the ship’s doctor reassured Helen. “Nowadays a shuttle service operates daily between Lyttelton and Christchurch. You can rent a mule when we arrive. You won’t have to hike the whole way like the first settlers.”
    Helen was hesitant. Maybe she could rent a mule, but what was she going to do with the girls?
    “How…how far is it exactly?” she asked unsurely as the
Dublin
rapidly approached the coast. “And do we have to bring all our luggage with us?”
    “As you like,” Gerald remarked. “You can also have it ferried by