This tale of a l2-year-old girl's cross-country trek to find her father seems like a New Zealand version of The Journey of Natty Gann, lacking the winsome dog and mercifully much else in the winsome line. During the Depression, Kate (Robson) is parked with relatives so that her father can seek work in the big city. Unhappy, she runs away, hooking up with a young war veteran (Phelps), himself on the run. They ride the rails, pilfer from farms, queue up at soup kitchens, and sleep under the stars. He doesn't notice a substantial young bosom under her boy's disguise until he throws her into a creek - 'Christ! A bloody sheila!' - a myopia which perhaps explains the lack of compass bearing in his life. It's a thin, underwritten film, with muffled emotional climaxes, and with neither of the main players equipped to bring much to their parts. A walk on the mild side.