budget is, that F---- has been away for a few days on a skating
excursion. A rather distant neighbour of ours called on his way up to
the station far back among the hills, and gave such a glowing account of
the condition of the ice in that part of the country, that F----, who is
very fond of the amusement, was persuaded to accompany him. Our friend
is the son of the Bishop, and owns a large station about twenty-six
miles from this. At the back of his run the hills rise to a great
height, and nestled among them lie a chain of lakes, after the largest
of which (Lake Coleridge) Mr. H----'s station is named. On one of the
smaller lakes, called by the classical name of "Ida," the ice attains to
a great thickness; for it is surrounded by such lofty hills that during
the winter months the sun hardly touches it, and it is commonly reported
that a heavily-laden bullock-dray could cross it in perfect safety.
F----was away nearly a week, and appears to have enjoyed himself
thoroughly, though it will seem to you more of hard work than amusement;
for he and Mr. H----, and some other gentlemen who were staying there,
used to mount directly after breakfast, with their skates tied to their
saddle-bow, and ride twelve miles to Lake Ida, skate all through the
short winter's day, lunching at the solitary hut of a gentleman-farmer
close by the lake, and when it grew dusk riding home again. The
gentlemen in this country are in such good training through constant
exercise, that they appear able to stand any amount of fatigue without
minding it.
Letter XII: My first expedition.
Broomielaw, October 1866. This ought to be early spring, but the weather
is really colder and more disagreeable than any which winter brought us;
and, proverbially fickle as spring sunshine and showers are in England,
ours is a far more capricious and trying season. Twice during this month
have I been a victim to these sudden changes of climate; on the first
occasion it was most fortunate that we had reached the shelter of a
friendly and hospitable roof, for it was three days before we could
re-cross the mountain-pass which lay between us and home. One beautiful
spring morning F---- asked me if I would like to ride across the hills,
and pay my first visit to some kind and old friends of his, who were
among the earliest arrivals in the province, and who have made a lovely
home for themselves at the foot of a great Bush on the other side of
our range. I was delighted at the idea, for I have had very little
opportunity of going about since we came here, owing to the short
winter days and the amount of occupation at home consequent on a new
establishment.
Directly after breakfast, the horses were caught and saddled, and we
started in high spirits. As we rode up the long, sunny valley stretching
away for miles at the back of the house, F---- pointed out to me, with
all a sheep-farmer's pride, the hundreds of pretty little curly-fleeced
lambs skipping about the low hill-sides. After we passed our own
boundary fence we came upon a very bad track,--this is the name by which
all roads are called, and they do not deserve a better,--but it was the
only path to our destination. The air was mild and balmy, and the sun
shone brightly as we slowly picked our way across bogs and creeks,
and up and down steep, slippery hill-sides; but just as we reached the
lowest saddle of the range and prepared to descend, a cold wind met us.
In an instant the sunshine was overclouded, and F----, pointing to
a grey bank of cloud moving quickly towards us, said, "There is a
tremendous sou'-wester coming up; we had better push on for shelter,
or you'll be drowned:" but, alas! at each step the road grew worse and
worse; where it was level the ground was literally honeycombed with deep
holes half full of water, and at last we came to a place where the
horse had to descend a flight of stone steps, each step being extremely
slippery and some way below the other; and at the bottom of this
horrible staircase there was a wide jump to be taken, the spring being
off the lowest step, and the jump upwards alighting on a steep bank up
which the horses scrambled like cats. Getting wet through appeared to
me a very minor evil compared to the dangers of such a road, but F----
urged me forward, with assurances that the horse knew the path perfectly
well and could carry me at a gallop quite safely; but it was impossible
to infuse sufficient courage into my drooping heart to induce me to go
faster than a walk.
All this time the storm drew rapidly nearer, the wind blew in icy cold
gusts, the hail came down in large stones, pelting our faces till
they tingled again; it was nearly an hour before we rode up to the
hospitable, ever-open porch door of Rockwood. I was immediately lifted
off my saddle by kind and strong arms, and carried with frozen limbs
and streaming habit into the kitchen, for I was as unfit for the
drawing-room as my own water-spaniel. A blazing wood fire was hastily
lighted in one of the bed-rooms, and thither the good hostess conveyed
me. I emerged from that apartment the most extraordinary figure you ever
saw. Imagine me arrayed in a short and very wide crinoline, over which
was a bright-coloured linsey petticoat; an old pilot-coat for a jacket,
huge carpet slippers on my feet, and my dripping hair hanging loose
over my shoulders! I assure you, I looked like the portraits in books of
travel, of the Tahitian women when they first assumed clothes; and the
worst of it was, that I had to remain in this costume for three whole
days. To return was impossible, the storm from the S.W. raged all that
evening. When we opened our eyes next morning, snow was lying some
inches deep, and still falling fast; there was no cessation for
forty-eight hours, and then we had to give it time to thaw a little, so
that it was Sunday morning before we started on our homeward ride.
In the meantime, nothing could afford a greater contrast to the wild
weather out of doors than the snug brightness within. Blazing logs of
pine and black birch made every room warm and cheery; all day we chatted
and amused ourselves in different ways (I learned to make a capital
pudding, and acquainted myself with the mysteries of "junket"); in the
evenings we had whist for an hour, and then either round games or songs.
The young men of the house have nice voices and a great feeling for
music, and some of the trios and glees went very well indeed. The only
thing which spoilt my enjoyment was the constantly recurring remembrance
of that terrible road. F---- tried to comfort me by assurances that the
snow would have filled up the worst places so much that I should not see
them, but, strange to say, I failed to derive any consolation from that
idea; however, we accomplished the journey back safely, but with many
slips and slides. As soon as we came on our own run, F----began to look
out for dead lambs, but fortunately there were not many for him to mourn
over; they must have taken shelter under the low hills, to leeward of
the storm.
The second ride was much longer, and if possible a more disagreeable
one. It began just in the same way; we were again decoyed out by
sunshine and soft air for a ride round the run, starting about half-past
ten. The scenery was beautiful, and we enjoyed ourselves immensely.
The track lay along our own boundary fence most of the way, and we had
ridden about ten miles, when we stopped at one of our shepherds' huts,
technically called an out station, and accepted his offer of luncheon.
He gave us capital tea, with an egg beaten up in it as a substitute
for milk, cold mutton, bread, and a cake; the reason of these unwonted
luxuries was that he kept fowls, and I was very jealous at seeing two
broods of chickens out, whilst mine are still in the shell. This man
is quite an artist, and the walls of his but were covered with bold
pen-and-ink sketches, chiefly reminiscences of the hunting-field in
England, or his own adventures "getting out" wild cattle on the Black
Hills in the north of the province: he leads an extremely-solitary
existence, his dogs being his only companions; his duties consist in
riding daily a boundary down the gorge of the river, which he has to
cross and re-cross many times: and he has to supply the home station and
our house with mutton, killing four or five sheep a week. He is employed
out of doors all day, but has plenty of time in the evenings for reading
I found him well-informed and intelligent, and he expresses himself
exceedingly well. We rested here an hour, and as we went outside and
prepared to mount, F---- said, "I really believe there is _another_
sou'-wester coming up," and so there was: we could not go fast, for
we were riding over a dry river-bed, composed entirely of loose large
stones. Every few hundred yards we had to cross the river Selwyn, which
was rising rapidly, as the storm had been raging in the mountains long
before it reached us; on each side were high, steep hills, and in some
places the river filled up the gorge entirely, and we had to ride in the
water up to our saddle-girths. All this time the rain was coming down
in sheets, but the wind grew colder and colder; at last the rain turned
into snow, which speedily changed us and our horses into white moving
figures. Eight long weary miles of this had we, only able to trot the
last two, and those over very swampy ground. In your country a severe
cold would probably have been the least evil of this escapade, but here
no such consequence follow a good wetting; the houses are so little real
protection from the weather, that you are forced to live as it were
in the open air, whether you like it or not, and this hardens the
constitution so much, that it is not easy to take cold from a little
extra exposure. Men are apt to be careless and remain in their wet
things, or stand before a fire till their clothes dry on them; and
whenever I scold any one for being foolish, he always acknowledges that
if he does but change when he comes into a house, he _never_ catches
cold from any amount of exposure to the severest weather.
Letter XIII: Bachelor hospitality.--a gale on shore.
Broomielaw, November 1866. We have lately made a much longer excursion
than those I told you of last, month, and this time have been fortunate
in meeting with fine weather above all, our expedition has been over
perfectly level ground, and on a good "track," which has greatly
increased its charms in my eyes. A fortnight ago early summer set fairly
in, and some bachelor neighbours took advantage of the change to ride
over to see us, and arrange a plan for the following week. It all fitted
in nicely, for F---- was obliged to go to Christchurch at that time, and
the first idea of the expedition originated in my saying how dull I was
at the station when he was away. I can get on very well all day; with my
various employments--feeding the chickens, taking the big dogs out for a
walk, and so on: but after the house is quiet and silent for the night,
and the servants have gone to bed, a horrible lonely eerie feeling comes
over me; the solitude is so dreary, and the silence so intense, only
broken occasionally by the wild, melancholy cry of the weka. However, I
am very rarely tried in this way, and when I am it can't be helped, if
that is any consolation.
I forget whether I told you that we left all "evening things," and other
toilette necessaries which would not be wanted up country, behind us
in Christchurch, so as to avoid the trouble of sending any luggage
backwards or forwards. It is necessary to mention this, to account for
the very light marching order in which we travelled. It was a lovely
summer morning on which we left home, meaning to be away nearly a week,
from Monday till Saturday. We were well mounted, and all our luggage
consisted of my little travelling-bag fastened to the pommel of my
saddle, containing our brushes and combs, and what is termed a "swag" in
front of F----'s saddle; that is, a long narrow bundle, in this instance
enclosed in a neat waterproof case, and fastened with two straps to
the "D's," which are steel loops let in in four places to all colonial
saddles, for the purpose of carrying blankets, etc.; they derive their
name apparently from their resemblance to the letter. In this parcel our
most indispensable garments were tightly packed. We cantered gaily along
on the way to Christchurch, the horses appearing to enjoy the delicious
air and soft springy turf as much as we did. There was a river and
half-a-dozen creeks to be crossed; but they are all quite low at this
time of year. As we stood in one of them to let the horses drink and
cool their legs, I saw a huge eel hidden under the shadow of a high
overhanging bank, waiting till the evening to come out and feed upon the
myriads of flies and little white moths that skim over the surface of
the water.
It is considered a great advantage to our station that there is only the
river Selwyn (of which the Maori name is the Wai-kiri-kiri) between us
and town, not only for our own convenience, but because it is easy to
take sheep across it, and it offers no difficulties to the wool drays.
This river has a very good reputation, and is very rarely dangerous to
cross; whereas the Rakaia and the Rangitata towards the south, and the
Waimakiriri towards the north, of Christchurch, are most difficult, and
always liable to sudden freshes. The general mode of crossing the larger
rivers is by a boat, with the horse swimming behind; but accidents
constantly occur from the foolhardiness of people attempting to ford
them alone on horseback: they are lost in quicksands, or carried down by
the current, before they can even realize that they are in danger. The
common saying in New Zealand is, that people only die from drowning
and drunkenness. I am afraid the former is generally the result of the
latter.
From the first our road lay with our backs to the hills; but as we
cantered along the plains, I was often obliged to turn round and admire
their grand outlines. The highest ranges were still snow-white, and made
a magnificent background against the summer sky. An easy twelve miles'
ride brought us to a charming little station, called by the pretty
native name of Waireka; here lived our three bachelor hosts, and a nicer
or more comfortable home in a distant land could not be desired. The
house has been built for some years, consequently the plantations about
it and the garden have grown up well, and the willows, gum-trees, and
poplars shelter it perfectly, besides giving it such a snug home look.
It stands on a vast plain, without even an undulation of the ground near
it; but the mountains form a grand panoramic view. There is a large wide
verandah round two sides of the house, with French windows opening into
it; and I could not help feeling impatient to see my own creepers in
such luxuriant, beauty as these roses and honeysuckles were. It was half
amusing and half pathetic to notice the preparations which had been made
to receive a lady guest, and the great anxiety of my hosts to ensure
my being quite as comfortable as I am at home. Much had been said
beforehand about the necessity of making up my mind to rough it in
bachelor quarters, so I was surprised to find all sorts of luxuries in
my room, especially a dainty little toilette-table, draped with white
cloths (a big wooden packing-case was its foundation). Its ornaments
were all sorts of nondescript treasures, placed in boxes at the last
moment of leaving the English hall or rectory by careful loving hands of
mothers and sisters, and lying unused for years until now. There was
a little china tray, which had been slipped into some corner by a
child-sister anxious to send some possession of her "very own" out
to the other end of the world; there was a vase with flowers; a
parti-coloured pin-cushion of very gay silks, probably the parting
gift of an old nurse; and a curious old-fashioned essence bottle, with
eau-de-cologne; the surrounding country had been ransacked to procure a
piece of scented soap. The only thing to remind me that I was not in an
English cottage was the opossum rug with which the neat little bed was
covered. The sitting-room looked the picture of cosy comfort, with its
well-filled book-shelves, arm-chairs, sofa with another opossum rug
thrown over it, and the open fireplace filled with ferns and tufts
of the white feathery Tohi grass in front of the green background. We
enjoyed our luncheon, or rather early dinner, immensely after our ride;
and in the afternoon went out to see the nice large garden (such a
contrast to our wretched little beginnings), and finally strolled on
to the inevitable wool-shed, where the gentlemen had an animated "sheep
talk." I rather enjoy these discussions, though they are prefaced by
an apology for "talking shop;" but it amuses me, and I like to see the
samples of wool, which are generally handed about in the heat of a great
argument, the long white locks are so glistening, and soft, and crinkly.
My five-o'clock tea was duly remembered, and then, as there was nothing
more to see out of doors within a short distance, I proposed that I
should make a cake. The necessary ingredients were quickly collected.
I had relays of volunteers to beat up the eggs, and though I suffered
great anxiety until it was cut at supper, it turned out satisfactorily.
The worst of my cookery is, that while I always follow the same
directions most carefully, there is great uncertainty and variety about
the result. In the evening we played round games. But we all went early
to bed, as, we had to be up betimes, and in the saddle by seven o'clock,
to catch the 9-30 train at Rolleston; twenty miles off. We had a
beautiful, still morning for our ride, and reached the station--a shed
standing out on the plain--in time to see our horses safely paddocked
before the train started for Christchurch. The distance by rail was only
fifteen miles, so we were not long about it; and we walked to the hotel
from the railway-station in the town. A bath and breakfast were both
very enjoyable, and then F---- went out to transact his business, and I
employed myself in unpacking and _ironing_ a ball-dress for a party,
to which we were engaged that evening. There was also another ball the
following night. The second was a very late one, and we had scarcely an
hour's sleep before we were obliged to get up and start by the 6 A.M.
train back to Rolleston, where we remounted our horses and rode to dear
little Waireka in time for breakfast. By the evening I was sufficiently
rested to make another cake, which also, happily, turned out well.
We intended to return home the next day (Friday), but a terrific
"nor'-wester" came on in the night, and it was impossible to stir out of
the house; it was the severest gale since our arrival, and it is hardly
possible to give you a correct idea of the force and fury of the wind.
Not a glimpse of the mountains was to be seen; a haze of dust, as thick
as any fog, shut everything out. The sheep had all taken refuge under
the high banks of the creeks. It is curious that sheep always feed head
to wind in a nor'-west gale, whereas they will drift for miles before
a sou'-wester. The trees bent almost flat before the hot breath of this
hurricane, and although the house was built of cob, and its walls were
very thick and solid, the creaking and swaying of the shingled roof kept
me in perpetual alarm. The verandah was a great protection; and yet
the small river-pebbles, of which the garden-walk was made, were dashed
against the windows like hailstones by each gust. We amused ourselves
indoors by the study and composition of acrostics, and so got through an
imprisonment of two days, without a moment's cessation of the wind;
but towards sunset on Saturday there were signs of a lull, and about
midnight the gale dropped; and we heard the grateful, refreshing sound
of soft and continuous rain, and when we came out to breakfast on
Sunday morning everything looked revived again. It is a most fortunate
meteorological fact that these very high winds are generally succeeded
by heavy rain; everything is so parched and shrivelled up by them that
I do not know what would become of the vegetation otherwise. We held a
council, to determine what had better be done about returning home, and
finally decided to risk a wet ride sooner than disappoint the little
congregation; for should it prove a fine afternoon, those who lived near
would certainly come; so we mounted after breakfast.
I was wrapped in one of the gentlemen's macintoshes, and found the ride
far from disagreeable. As we neared our own station we began to look out
for signs of disaster; and about half a mile from the house saw some of
the vanes from the chimneys on the track; a little nearer home, across
the path lay a large zinc chimney-pot; then another; and when we came
close enough to see the house distinctly, it looked very much dwarfed
without its chimneys. There had been a large pile of empty boxes at
the back of the stable; these were all blown away in the gale. One huge
packing-case was sailing tranquilly about on the pond, and planks and
fragments of zinc were strewn over the paddock. The moment we reached
the house, Mr. U----, the gentleman-cadet of whom I have told you, came
out, with a melancholy face, to tell me that a large wooden cage, full
of the canaries which I had brought from England with me, had been blown
out of the verandah, though it was on the most sheltered side of the
house. It really seemed incredible at first, but the cage was lying
in ruins in the middle of the paddock, and all my birds except one
had disappeared. It happened in the middle of the night, and Mr.
U----described, very amusingly, that when he was awakened by the noise
which the cage made against a wire fence (which it just "topped" in
passing), he sprang out of his bed in the attic, and clambered out of
the window, expecting to find the very heavy sort of staircase-ladder in
its place; but it was "over the hills and far away," so he had a drop of
about twelve feet to the ground, which thoroughly aroused him. He went
into the verandah to see if the cage was safe, and was nearly knocked
down by a big tin bath, ordinarily kept there, which was just starting
across country. As soon as he missed the cage he very pluckily went
after it, being able to keep sight of it by the fitful gleams of
moon-light, and he was just in time to rescue the poor little surviving
canary. We could not help laughing at the recital of all the mischief
which had been done, but still it is very tiresome, and the garden
looks, if possible, more wretched than ever. There is no shelter for
it yet, and my poor green-peas are blown nearly out of the ground. It
rained hard all the evening, so our congregation was confined to the
home party.
Letter XIV: A Christmas picnic, and other doings.
Broomielaw, December 1866. It is too late to wish you a merry Christmas
and a happy New Year in this letter. In order to allow them to reach you
in time I should have sent my good wishes in October's letter; I must
remember to do so next year. I am writing on the last days of the month,
so I shall be able to tell you of our own Christmas doings; though,
first, I must describe the festivities attending a "coming of age in
the Bush," to which we were invited about the middle of this month. How
strange Christmas picnics and balls will appear in your eyes, before
which still dangle probably the dear old traditional holly and ivy! I am
obliged to preface all my descriptions with an account of a ride, if
I am to begin, according to your repeated injunctions, at the very
beginning; for a ride is quite certain to be both the beginning and end
of each excursion, simply because we have no other means of going about,
except on our feet. The ride upon this occasion was to Rockwood, where
the birthday party was to assemble, but the road had not now so many
terrors for me. In consequence of the fine dry weather, most of the bad
places were safer and firmer, and the numerous creeks were only shallow
sparkling streamlets over which a child could jump, instead of the muddy
noisy wide brooks of three months ago. The day on which we started, this
time, was a great contrast to the former one. When we reached the saddle
I have before told you of, instead of being met and nearly driven back
by a violent "sutherly buster," we stopped before beginning the steep
descent to admire the exquisite view before us.
Close on our right hand rose the Government bush out of which we get our
firewood, standing grand and gloomy amid huge cliffs and crags; even
the summer sunshine could not enliven it, nor the twitter and chirrup
of countless birds. In front, the chain of hills we were crossing rolled
down in gradually decreasing hillocks, till they merged in the vast
plains before us, stretching away as far as the eye could reach towards
the south, all quivering in the haze and glare of the bright sunlight.
The background, extending along the horizon, was formed of lofty
mountains still glistening white against the dazzling blue sky. Just at
our feet the Rockwood paddocks looked like carpets of emerald velvet,
spread out among the yellowish tussocks; the fences which enclose them
were either golden with broom and gorse, or gay with wild roses and
honeysuckle. Beyond these we saw the bright patches of flowers in the
garden, and nothing could be more effective than the white gable of the
house standing out against the vast black birch forest which clothed the
steep hill-sides for miles--the contrast was so picturesque between the
little bit of civilization and culture and the great extent of wild,
savage scenery around it. After the utter treelessness of our own
immediate neighbourhood, the sight of such a mass of foliage is a joy to
my eyes.
The day following our arrival was _the_ birthday, and we prepared
to enjoy every hour of it. The party assembled was a very large one,
consisting, however, chiefly of gentlemen, for the utmost exertions in
the district could not produce more than five ladies altogether, and
two of those had come an immense way. Directly after breakfast we all
sallied forth, the ladies equipped in light cotton dresses (muslin is
too thin for the bush) and little sailor hats,--we did not want shady
ones, for never a gleam of sun can penetrate into a real New Zealand
Bush, unless in a spot which has been very much cleared. Strong boots
with nails in the soles, to help us to keep on our feet up the steep
clay hill-sides, and a stout stick, completed our equipment; perhaps
we were not very smart, but we looked like going at all events. I can
answer for myself that I enjoyed every moment of that long Midsummer
holiday most intensely, though I fear I must have wearied our dear,
charming host, by my incessant questions about the names of the trees
and shrubs, and of the habits and ways of the thousands of birds. It was
all so new and so delightful to me,--the green gloom, the hoarse croak
of the ka-ka, as it alighted almost at our feet and prepared, quite
careless of our vicinity, to tear up the loose soil at the root of a
tall tree, in search of grubs. It is a species of parrot, but with very
dingy reddish-brown plumage, only slightly enlivened by a few, scarlet
feathers in the wing. The air was gay with bright green parroquets
flitting about, very mischievous they are, I am told, taking large tithe
of the fruit, especially of the cherries. Every now and then we stood,
by common consent, silent and almost breathless to listen to the
Bell-bird, a dingy little fellow, nearly as large as a thrush with the
plumage of a chaffinch, but with such a note!--how can I make you hear
its wild, sweet, plaintive tone, as a little girl of the party said,
"just as if it had a bell in its throat;" but indeed it would require
a whole peal of silver bells to ring such an exquisite chime. Then we
crept softly up to a low branch, to have a good look at the Tui, or
Parson-bird, most respectable and clerical-looking in its glossy black
suit, with a singularly trim and dapper air, and white wattles of very
slender feathers--indeed they are as fine as hair-curled coquettishly
at each side of his throat, exactly like bands. All the birds were
quite tame, and, instead of avoiding us, seemed inclined to examine
us minutely. Many of them have English names, which I found very
tantalising, especially when, the New Zealand Robin was announced, and
I could only see a fat little ball of a bird, with a yellowish-white
breast. Animals there are none. No quadruped is indigenous to New
Zealand, except a rat; but then, on the other hand, we are as free from
snakes and all vermin as if St. Patrick himself had lived here. Our host
has turned several pheasants into this forest, but they increase very
slowly on account of the wekas. However, the happiness of this morning
was made complete by our putting up two splendid rocketers.
We could only make our way by the paths which have been cut through
the Bush; a yard off the track it is impossible to stir for the dense
undergrowth. In the ravines and steep gullies formed by the creeks
grow masses of ferns of all sorts, spreading like large shrubs, and
contrasting by their light bright green with the black stems of the
birch-trees around them. There are a few pines in this bush, but not
many. I can give you no idea of the variety among the shrubs:
the koromika, like an Alpine rose, a compact ball of foliage; the
lance-wood, a tall, slender stem, straight as a line, with a few long
leaves at the top, turned downwards like the barb of a spear, and
looking exactly like a lance stuck into the ground; the varieties of
matapo, a beautiful shrub, each leaf a study, with its delicate tracery
of black veins on a yellow-green ground; the mappo, the gohi, and many
others, any of which would be the glory of an English shrubbery: but
they seem to require the deep shelter of their native Bush, for they
never flourish when transplanted. I noticed the slender the large trees
have of the ground, and it is not at all surprising, after such a gale
as we had three weeks ago, to see many of the finest blown down in the
clearings where the wind could reach them. They do not seem to have any
tap-root at all, merely a very insufficient network of fibres, seldom of
any size, which spreads a short way along the surface of the ground
As long as a Bush is undisturbed by civilization, it appears to be
impervious to wind or weather; but as soon as it is opened and cleared
a little, it begins to diminish rapidly. There are traces all over the
hills of vast forests having once existed; chiefly of totara, a sort
of red pine, and those about us are scattered with huge logs of this
valuable wood, all bearing traces of the action of fire; but shepherds,
and explorers on expeditions, looking for country, have gradually
consumed them for fuel, till not many pieces remain except on the
highest and most inaccessible ranges.
It was a delightful, and by no means unacceptable surprise which awaited
us on the other side, when, on emerging from a very thick part of the
Bush, we came on a lovely spot, a true "meeting of the waters." Three
broad, bright creeks came rushing and tumbling down from the densely
wooded hills about to join and flow on in quite a good-sized river, amid
boulders and a great deal of hurry and fuss,--a contrast to the profound
quiet of our ramble hitherto, the silence of which was only broken by
the twitter and whistle of the birds. Never a song can you hear, only a
sweet chirrup, or two or three melodious notes. On the opposite bank of
the river there was the welcome sight of several hampers more or less
unpacked, and the gleam of a white tablecloth on the moss. Half-a-dozen
gentlemen had formed themselves into a commissariat, and were arranging
luncheon. We could see the champagne cooling in a sort of little bay,
protected by a dam of big stones from being carried down the stream. It
all looked very charming and inviting, but the next question was how
to get across the river to these good things. Twelve or fourteen feet
separated us, hungry and tired wanderers as we were, from food and rest;
the only crossing-place was some miles lower down, near the house in
fact; so even the most timid amongst us scouted the idea of retracing
our steps. The only alternative was to make a bridge: one of the
gentlemen who were with us carried an axe in case of emergency, and in a
moment we heard the sharp ringing sounds foretelling the fall of a tree.
In the mean-time, others of the party were dragging out fallen logs--of
course small and manageable ones--and laying them from one huge boulder
to another, working up to their knees in water. So many of these
prostrate trunks were "convenient," that a cry soon arose to the
woodman to "spare the trees," for there were quite enough on the ground.
However, two substantial poles had been felled, and these were laid over
the deepest and most dangerous part of the current. The bridge was soon
declared passable, and loud shouts from the opposite side proclaimed
that luncheon was quite ready. I was called, as having a most undeserved
reputation for "pluck," to make trial of the aerial-looking fabric. I
did not like it at all, and entreated some one else to lead the forlorn
hope; so a very quiet young lady, who really possessed more courage in
her little finger than I do in my whole body, volunteered to go first.
The effect from the bank was something like tight-rope dancing, and it
was very difficult to keep one's balance. Miss Kate, our pioneer, walked
on very steadily, amid great applause, till she reached the middle of
the stream, where fortunately the water was shallow, but strewed with
masses of boulders. She paused an instant on the large rock on which the
ends of the saplings rested, and then started afresh for the last half
of her journey. The instant she put her foot on the second part of the
bridge, it gave way with a loud crash; and the poor girl, with great
presence of mind, caught at the tree she, had just crossed, and so saved
herself from a ducking. Of course, she had plenty of help in an instant,
but the difficulty was to regain any sort of footing. She could not drop
into the water, and there was apparently no way of dragging herself
up again; but one of the gentlemen crept on hands and knees along the
unbroken part of the bridge, and eventually helped her up the sides
of the large boulder which acted as a pier, and from which the log had
slipped. From the other side they now pushed across tall, slim trees,
freshly cut, and the rest of the passage was safe enough. I did not like
the mode of transit at all, though I got over without a slip, but it
requires a steady head to cross a noisy stream on two slippery round
poles--for really the trees were little thicker--laid side by side,
bending with every step. It was a great comfort to me all luncheon-time
to know that we were not to return by the same path through the Bush. We
had a good rest after lunch: I lay back on a bed of fern, watching the
numbers of little birds around us; they boldly picked up our crumbs,
without a thought of possible danger. Presently I felt a tug at the
shawl on which I was lying: I was too lazy and dreamy to turn my head,
so the next thing was a sharp dig on my arm, which hurt me dreadfully. I
looked round, and there was a weka bent on thoroughly investigating the
intruder into its domain. The bird looked so cool and unconcerned, that
I had not the heart to follow my first impulse and throw my stick at it;
but my forbearance was presently rewarded by a stab on the ankle,
which fairly made me jump up with a scream, when my persecutor
glided gracefully away among the bushes, leaving me, like Lord Ullin,
"lamenting."
We sauntered home slowly, gathering armfuls of, fern and a large variety
of a stag's-head moss so common on the west coast of Scotland; and as
soon as we had had some tea, the gentlemen went off with their towels to
bathe in the creek, and the five ladies set to work at the decorations
for the ball-room, weaving wreaths and arranging enormous bouquets very
rapidly: we had such a wealth of flowers to work with that our task was
not difficult. The most amusing part of the story is, however, that the
ball took place in my bed-room! A very pompous lady of my acquaintance
always prefaces the slenderest anecdote with these words, "And it
happened in this wise," so I think I shall avail myself of the _tour de
phrase_.
It happened in this wise, then:-a large well-proportioned room had been
added to the house lately; it was intended for a drawing-room, but
for some reason has only been used as a spare bed-room, but as it
may possibly return to its original destination, very little bed-room
furniture has been put in it, and many of its belongings are appropriate
to a sitting-room. We called in the servants, the light cane bedstead
was soon deposited under the shade of a tree in the garden, the
washing-stand was similarly disposed of, and an hour's work with hammer
and nails and a ball of string turned the room into a perfect bower of
ferns and flowers: great ingenuity was displayed in the arrangement of
lights, and the result was a very pretty ball-room.
We are always eating in this country, so you will not be surprised
to hear that there was yet another meal to be disposed of before we
separated to dress in all sorts of nooks and corners. White muslin was
the universal costume, as it can be packed flat and smooth. My gown
had been carried over by F---- in front of his saddle in a very small
parcel: I covered it almost entirely with sprays of the light-green
stag's-head, moss, and made a wreath of it also for my hair. I think
that with the other ladies roses were the most popular decoration, and
they looked very fresh and nice. I was the universal _coiffeuse_, and I
dressed all the girls' heads with flowers, as I was supposed to be best
up in the latest fashions. In the meantime, the piano had been moved to
the bay-window of the ball-room, and at ten o'clock dancing commenced,
and may be truly said to have been kept up with great spirit until four
o'clock: it only ceased then on account of the state of exhaustion of
the unfortunate five ladies, who had been nearly killed with incessant
dancing. I threw a shawl over my head, and sauntered alone up one of the
many paths close to the house which led into the Bush. Tired as I was,
I shall never forget the beauty and romance of that hour,--the delicious
crisp _new_ feeling of the morning air; the very roses, growing like a
red fringe on the skirts of the great Bush, seemed awaking to fresh life
and perfume; the numbers of gay lizards and flies coming out for their
morning meal, and, above all, the first awakening of the myriads of
Bush-birds; every conceivable twitter and chatter and chirrup; the last
cry of a very pretty little owl, called, from its distinctly uttered
words, the "More-pork," as it flitted away before the dawn to the
highest trees: all made up a jubilant uproar compared to which one of
the Crystal Palace choruses is silence. I sat down on a fallen tree, and
listened and waited: every moment added to the lovely dawn around me,
and I enjoyed to the full the fragrant smells and joyous sounds of
another day in this fresh young land.
All too soon came a loud "coo-ee" from the house, which I allowed them
to repeat before I answered; this was to tell me that the ball-room was
deserted, and had been again turned into a bed-room. When I opened my
eyes later, after a six hours' nap, the room looked like a fairy bower,
the flowers still unfaded. We had another picnic the next day up the
gorge of a river, amid very wild and beautiful scenery; but everything
had been arranged so as to make the expedition an easy one, out of
consideration to the weary five. The day after this we rode home again,
and I had to set to work directly to prepare for my own Christmas party
to the shepherds and shearers,--for we have just commenced to muster
the sheep, and the shearing will be in full force by Christmas Day.
One great object I have in view in giving this party is to prevent the
shearers from going over to the nearest accommodation-house and getting
tipsy, as they otherwise would; so I have taken care to issue my
invitations early. I found great difficulty in persuading some of the
men to accept, as they had not brought any tidy clothes with them; and
as the others would be decently, indeed well dressed, they did not like
putting in a shabby appearance. This difficulty was obviated by F----
hunting up some of the things he had worn on the voyage, and rigging-out
the invited guests. For two days before the great day I had been working
hard, studying recipes for pies and puddings, and scouring the country
in search of delicacies. Every lady was most kind, knowing that our
poor, exposed garden was backward; I had sacks of green peas, bushels of
young potatoes, and baskets of strawberries and cherries sent to me from
all round the country; I made poor F---- ride twenty miles to get me a
sirloin of beef, and, to my great joy, two beautiful young geese arrived
as a present only the day before. It is a point of honour to have as
little mutton as possible on these occasions, as the great treat is
the complete change of fare. I only ventured to introduce it very much
disguised as curry, or in pies. We were all up at daylight on Christmas
morning, and off to the nearest little copse in one of the gullies,
where a few shrubs and small trees and ferns grow, to gather boughs for
the decoration of the washhouse. Marvels were done in the carpentering
line to arrange tables around its walls. The copper, which at first
presented such an obstacle to the symmetry of the adornments, became
their chief glory; it was boarded over, its sides completely hidden by
flags and ferns, and the dessert placed on it peeped out from a bower of
greenery. I don't know how we got our own breakfast; from eleven o'clock
there was the constant announcement "A horseman coming up the flat;"
and by twelve, when I as beadle announced that all was ready, a large
congregation of thirty-six came trooping into my little drawing-room. As
soon as it was filled the others clustered round the door; but all
could hear, I think. F---- began the service; and as the notes of the
Christmas Anthem swelled up, I found the tears trembling in my eyes. My
overwhelming thought was that it actually was the very first time those
words had ever been sung or said in that valley--you in England can
hardly realize the immensity of such a thought--"the first time since
the world was made." I think the next sensation was one of extreme
happiness; it seemed such a privilege to be allowed to hold the initial
Christmas service. I had to grasp this idea very tight to keep down the
terrible home-sickness which I felt all day for almost the first time.
There are moments when no advantages or privileges can repress what
Aytoun calls "the deep, unutterable woe which none save exiles feel."
The service only lasted half an hour, beginning and ending with a hymn;
there were three women present besides me--my two servants, and the nice
young wife of a neighbouring shepherd. It was a sultry day, not a breath
of air; but still it is never oppressive at this elevation. We wound up
a big musical-box, set it going in the banqueting-hall (late washhouse),
and marshalled the guests in they were extremely shy as a rule, and so
we soon went away and left them to themselves. They ate incessantly
for two hours--and I hope they enjoyed themselves; then the men lounged
about the stables and smoked, and the three women cleared away a little.
F---- and our gentlemen guests got up athletic sports in the shade which
seemed very popular, though it appeared a great deal of trouble to take
on such a hot day. As the sun sank below the hills it grew much cooler,
and my two maids came with a shamefaced request to be allowed to dance
in the kitchen. I inquired about the music?--that was provided for by
a fiddle and some pipes; so I consented, but I found they wanted me
to start them. I selected as my partner a very decent young farmer who
lives near, but has left his farm and is at work branding our sheep all
shearing-time. The pride and delight of his mate was much greater than
my partner's; he stood near his friend, prompting him through the
mazes of the most extraordinary quadrille you ever saw, with two extra
figures. Then there was an endless polka, in which everybody danced,
like Queen Elizabeth, "high and disposedly;" but the ball ended at nine
o'clock, and we were given some cold dinner, for which we were all very
ready. The next morning saw the remains of the festivity cleared away,
and every one hard at work again; for this is our very busiest season.
The work of the station, however, is carried on at the homestead two
miles off. F---- is there all day long, but I see nothing of it. While
the shearers' hearts were tender, I asked them to come over to church on
Sunday, and they have promised to do so: I lend them quantities of
books and papers also, so as to keep them amused and away from the
accommodation-house.
Letter XV: Everyday station life.
Broomielaw, January 1867. You tell me to describe our daily home-life
and domestic surroundings. I dare say it: will appear to be a monotonous
and insignificant existence enough when put on paper, but it suits me
exactly; and, for the first time in my life, I have enough to do, and
also the satisfaction of feeling that I am of some little use to my
fellow-creatures. A lady's influence out here appears to be very great,
and capable of indefinite expansion. She represents refinement and
culture (in Mr. Arnold's sense of the words), and her footsteps on a new
soil such as this should be marked by a trail of light. Of course every
improvement must be the work of time, but I find my neighbours very
willing to help me in my attempts.
A few lines will be sufficient to sketch a day's routine. The first of
my duties is one I especially delight in. I am out very early with a
large tin dish of scraps mixed with a few handfuls of wheat, and my
appearance is the signal for a great commotion among all my fowls
and ducks and pigeons. Such waddling and flying and running with
outstretched wings to me: in fact, I receive a morning greeting from
all the live-stock about the place. I am nearly knocked down by the big
sheep-dogs; the calves come rushing with awkward gambols towards me for
a bit of the fowls' bread, whilst the dogs look out for a bone; but,
in the midst of the confusion, the poultry hold their own; indeed, an
anxious hen eager to secure a breakfast for her chicks will fly at a
big dog, and beat him away from a savoury morsel. I think I ought not to
omit mentioning the devotion of a small pig; it is an exact illustration
of the French proverb which speaks of the inequality of love, for I am
quite passive and do not respond in the least to the little beastie's
affection, which is the most absurd thing you ever saw, especially as
it proceeds from so unromantic an animal. Late in the spring (that is to
say, about November last) we were all returning from a great pig-hunting
expedition, when I saw one of the party coming down a steep hill near
the house with a small and glossy-black wild pig under each arm; he was
very proud of his captives, placed them in a box with some straw, and
fed them like babies out of a bottle. We laughed at him very much; but
when he went away he begged so earnestly that the pigs should be reared
that we promised to keep them. In a few days they became perfectly tame,
and were very handsome little creatures; and one of them attached itself
to me, following me all about, even into the house (but _that_ I really
could not stand), accompanying me in all my walks, and, as far as it
could, in my rides. Many a time have I seen poor little piggy carried
down a creek by the current, squealing piteously, but it was evidently a
case of "many waters cannot quench love," for a little further on piggy
would appear, very much baked, but holding out gallantly, till sheer
exhaustion compelled him to give in, when he would lie down under a
tussock, apparently dying; but, as we were coming home in the dusk,
Helen, my pretty bay mare, has given many a shy at piggy starting up
from his shelter with gambols and squeals of joy.
It is always a great temptation to loiter about in the lovely fresh
morning air, but I have to be dressed in time for prayers and breakfast
at nine; directly after breakfast I go into the kitchen; sometimes, it
is only necessary to give orders or instructions, but generally I find
that practice is much better than precept, and I see to the soup myself,
and make the pudding--the joint can take care of itself.
You have often asked me what we have to eat, so this will be a good
opportunity of introducing our daily bill of fare, prefacing it with my
recorded opinion that here is no place in the world where you can live
so cheaply and so well as on a New Zealand sheep station, when once you
get a start. Of course, it is expensive at first, setting everything
going, but that would be the case in any country. I will begin at the
very beginning:--Porridge for breakfast, with new milk and cream _a
discretion_; to follow--mutton chops, mutton ham, or mutton curry,
or broiled mutton and mushrooms, not shabby little fragments of meat
broiled, but beautiful tender steaks off a leg; tea or coffee, and bread
and butter, with as many new-laid eggs as we choose to consume. Then,
for dinner, at half-past one, we have soup, a joint, vegetables, and a
pudding; in summer, we have fresh fruit stewed, instead of a pudding,
with whipped cream. I was a proud and happy woman the first day my cream
remained cream, and did not turn into butter; for generally my zeal
outran my discretion, and I did not know when to leave off whipping. We
have supper about seven; but this is a moveable feast, consisting of tea
again, mutton cooked in some form of entree, eggs, bread and butter, and
a cake of my manufacture. I must, however, acknowledge, that at almost
every other station you would get more dainties, such as jam and
preserves of all sorts, than we can boast of yet; for, as Littimer says
to David Copperfield, "We are very young, exceedingly young, sir," our
fruit-trees, have not come into full bearing, and our other resources
are still quite undeveloped.
However, I have wandered away terribly from my first intention of
telling you of the daily occupations to a description of our daily food.
After I have finished all my little fussings about the house, I join
F---- who has probably been for some time quietly settled down at his
writing-table, and we work together at books and writing till dinner;
after that meal, F---- like Mr. Tootes, "resumes his studies," but I
go and feed my fowls again, and if I am very idly disposed I sit on a
hencoop in the shade and watch the various tempers of my chickens and
ducklings. A little later F---- and I go out for some hours: if it is
not too hot, he takes his rifle and we go over the hills pig-stalking,
but this is really only suitable exercise for a fine winter's day;
at this time of year we either go for a walk or a ride, generally the
latter--not a little shabby canter, but a long stretching gallop for
miles and miles; perhaps stopping to have a cup of tea with a neighbour
twelve or fifteen miles off, and then coming slowly home in the
delicious gloaming, with the peculiar fresh crisp feeling which the
atmosphere always has here the moment the sun sets, no matter how hot
the day has been. I can hardly hope to make you understand how enjoyable
our twilight hours are, with no fear of damp or malaria to spoil them;
every turn of the track as we slowly wind up the valley showing us some
beautiful glimpse of distant mountain peaks, and, above all, such sunset
splendours, gradually fading away into the deep, pure beauty of a summer
night.
In one of our rides the other day, after crossing a low range of hills,
we suddenly dropped down on what would be called in England a hamlet,
but here it is designated by the extraordinary name of a "nest of
cockatoos." This expression puzzled me so much when I first heard
it, that I must give you as minute an explanation as I myself found
necessary to the comprehension of the subject.
When a shepherd has saved a hundred pounds, or the better class of
immigrant arrives with a little capital, the favourite investment is in
freehold land, which they can purchase, in sections of twenty acres and
upwards, at 2 pounds the acre. The next step is to build a sod but with
two rooms on their property, thatching it with Tohi, or swamp grass;
a door and a couple of window-frames all ready glazed are brought from
Christchurch in the dray with the family and the household goods. After
this rough and ready shelter is provided, the father and sons begin
fencing their land and gradually it all assumes a cultivated appearance.
Pig-sties and fowl-houses are added; a little garden, gay with common
English flowers, is made in front of the house, whose ugly walls are
gradually hidden by creepers, and the homestead looks both picturesque
and prosperous. These small farmers are called Cockatoos in Australia by
the squatters or sheep-farmers, who dislike them for buying up the best
bits of land on their runs; and say that, like a cockatoo, the small
freeholder alights on good ground, extracts all he can from it, and then
flies away to "fresh fields and pastures new." But the real fact is,
that the poor farmer perhaps finds his section is too far from a market,
so he is forced to abandon it and move nearer a town, where the best
and most productive land has been bought up already; and he has to begin
again at a disadvantage. However, whether the name is just or not, it
is a recognized one here; and I have heard a man say in answer to a
question about his usual occupation, "I'm a Cockatoo."
This particular "nest" appeared to me very well off, comparatively
speaking; for though the men complained sadly of the low price of their
wheat and oats, still there was nothing like poverty to be seen. Ready
money was doubtless scarce, and an extensive system of barter appeared
to prevail; but still they all looked well fed and well clothed;
sickness was unknown among them, and it did one's heart good to see the
children--such sturdy limbs, bright fearless eyes, and glowing faces.
They have abundance of excellent food. Each cottager has one or two
cows, and the little ones take these out to pasture on the hills,
so they are in the open air nearly all day: but their ignorance is
appalling! Many of them had never even been christened; there was no
school or church within thirty miles or more, and although the parents
seemed all tidy, decent people, and deplored the state of things, they
were powerless to help it. The father and elder sons work hard all day;
the mother has to do everything, even to making the candles, for the
family; there is no time or possibility of teaching the children. The
neighbouring squatters do not like to encourage settlers to buy up their
land, therefore they carefully avoid making things pleasant for a
new "nest," and the Cockatoos are "nobody's business;" so, as far as
educational advantages go, they are perfectly destitute.
When I mentioned my discovery of this hamlet, and my dismay at the
state of neglect in which so many fine intelligent-looking children
were growing up, every one warned me not to interfere, assuring me the
Cockatoo was a very independent bird, that he considered he had left all
the Ladies Bountiful and blanket and coal charities behind him in the
old country; that, in short, as it is generally put, "Jack is as good
as his master" out here, and any attempt at patronage would be deeply
resented. But I determined to try the effect of a little visiting among
the cottages, and was most agreeably surprised at the kind and cordial
welcome I received. The women liked to have some one to chat to about
their domestic affairs, and were most hospitable in offers of tea, etc.,
and everywhere invitations to "come again" were given; so the next week
I ventured to invite the men over to our Sunday services. Those who were
fond of reading eagerly accepted the offer to join the book-club, and at
last we started the educational subject. Many plans were discussed,
and finally we arranged for one woman, who had received an excellent
education and was quite fitted for the post, to commence a day-school;
but this entailed so much loss of her valuable time that the terms she
is obliged to ask seem disproportionately high to the people's means.
She wants 2 shillings and 6 pence a week with each child, and this is
terrible heavy on the head of a family who is anxious and willing to
give them some "schooling." However, the plan is to be tried, and I have
promised to start them with books, slates, copybooks, etc. It was quite
touching to hear their earnest entreaties that F---- would come over on
Sunday sometimes and hold a service there, but I tried to show them this
could not be managed. The tears actually came into their eyes when I
talked of the happiness it would be to see a little church and school in
their midst; and the almost invariable remark was, "Ah, but it'll be a
far day first." And so I fear it will--a very far day; but I have often
heard it said, that if you propose one definite object to yourself as
the serious purpose of your life, you will accomplish it some day.
Well, the purpose of my life henceforward is to raise money somehow or
somewhere to build a little wooden school-room (licensed for service, to
be held whenever a missionary clergyman comes by), and to pay the salary
of a schoolmaster and mistress, so that the poor Cockatoo need not
be charged more than threepence a week for each child. The Board of
Education will give a third of the sum required, when two-thirds have
been already raised; but it is difficult to collect subscriptions, or
indeed to induce the squatters to listen to any plan for improving the
condition of the small farmers, and every year which slips away and
leaves these swarms of children in ignorance adds to the difficulty of
training them. [Note: Since this was written, a school-house, also used
as a church, has been built in this district by private subscription
and Government aid. A clergyman, who lives some twenty-five miles away,
rides over and holds service once a month.]
Letter XVI: A sailing excursion on Lake Coleridge.
Lake Coleridge, February 1867. A violent storm of wind and rain from the
south-west keeps us all indoors to-day, and gives me time to write
my letter for the Panama mail, which will be made up to-morrow. The
post-office is ten miles off, and rejoices in the appropriate name of
"Wind-whistle;" it stands at the mouth of a deep mountain gorge, and
there never was such a temple of the winds.
This bad weather comes after a long spell of lovely bright summer days,
and is very welcome to fill up the failing creeks in the lower ranges
of hills. I must tell you how much we have been enjoying our visit here.
F---- knows this part of the country well, but it is quite new to me,
and a great contrast to the other scenery I have described to you We had
long talked of paying Mr. C. H---- a visit at his bachelor cottage on
his station far back among the high ranges of hills, but no time was
fixed, so I was rather taken by surprise when last week he drove up to
Broomielaw in a light American waggon with a pair of stout horses, and
announced that he had come to take us to his place next day. There was
no reason against this plan, and we agreed at once; the next morning
saw us on the road, after an early breakfast. We had to drive about
thirty-five miles round, whereas it would have been only twenty miles
riding across the hills; but our kind host thought that it would be much
more comfortable for me to be able to take a carpet-bag in the carriage
instead of the usual system of saddle-bags one is obliged to adopt
travelling on horseback. We made our first stage at the ever-hospitable
station of the C----'s, on the Horarata, but we could not remain to
luncheon, as they wished, having to push on further; and, as it turned
out, it was most fortunate we took advantage of the first part of the
day to get over the ground between us and our destination, for the
gentle breeze which had been blowing since we started gradually
freshened into a tremendous "nor'-wester," right in our teeth all the
rest of our way. The poor horses bent their heads as low as possible
and pulled bravely at their collars, up hill the whole time. Among the
mountains the wind rushed with redoubled fury down the narrow gorges,
and became icily cold as we neared the snowy ranges. It was impossible
to see the hills for the thick mist, though I knew we must have a
magnificent view before us. We took refuge for an hour just to rest the
horses, at Windwhistle, and I certainly expected the house to come down
whilst we were there. I can hardly tell you anything of the rest of the
drive, for I was really frightened at my first experience of a "howling
nor'-wester" out of doors, and Mr. H---- made me sit down at the bottom
of the carriage and heaped over me all the cloaks and shawls we had
brought. It was delightful to find ourselves under shelter at last in
a pretty bright snug room, with lots of books and arm-chairs, and a
blazing fire; _this_, you must remember, in midsummer.
The next morning was perfectly calm, and the lake as serene as if no
storm had been dashing its water in huge breakers against the beach
only a few hours before. The view from the sitting-room was lovely: just
beneath the window there was a little lawn, as green as possible from
the spray with which the lake had washed it yesterday; beyond this a low
hedge, an open meadow, a fringe of white pebbly beach, and then a wide
expanse of water within one little wooded island, and shut in gradually
from our view by spurs of hills running down to the shore, sometimes in
bold steep cliffs, and again in gentle declivities, with little strips
of bush or scrub growing in the steep gullies between them. The lake
extends some way beyond where we lose sight of it, being twelve miles
long and four miles broad. A few yards from the beach it is over six
hundred feet deep. Nothing but a painting could give you any idea of the
blue of sky and water that morning; the violent wind of yesterday seemed
to have blown every cloud below the horizon, for I could not see the
least white film anywhere. Behind the lower hills which surround the
lake rises a splendid snowy range; altogether, you cannot imagine a more
enchanting prospect than the one I stood and looked at; it made me think
of Miss Procter's lines--
"My eyes grow dim,
As still I gaze and gaze
Upon that mountain pass,
That leads--or so it seems-- To some far happy land
Known in a world of dreams."
All this time, whilst I was looking out of the window in most unusual
idleness, Mr. H---- and F---- were making constant journeys between the
boat-house and the store-room, and at last I was entreated to go and put
on my hat. While doing this I heard cupboards being opened, and a great
bustle; so when I reached the shore I was not so much surprised as they
expected, to see in the pretty little sailing-boat (which was moored to
a primitive sort of jetty made out of a broken old punt) the materials
for at least two substantial meals, in case of being kept out by a
sudden head-wind. I was especially glad to notice a little kettle among
the _impedimenta_, and there were cloaks and wraps of all kinds to
provide against the worst. Four gentlemen and I made up the crew and
passengers, and a very merry set we were, behaving extremely like
children out for a holiday. The wind was a trifle light for sailing, so
the gentlemen pulled, but very lazily and not at all in good "form,"
as the object of each oarsman seemed to be to do as little work as
possible. However, we got on somehow, a light puff helping us now and
then, but our progress was hardly perceptible. I had been for a long
time gazing down into the clear blue depth of water, every now and then
seeing a flash of the white sand shining at the bottom, when I was half
startled by our host standing suddenly up in the bow of the boat;
and then I found that we were a couple of miles away from our
starting-point, and that we had turned a corner formed by a steep spur,
and were running right into what appeared a grove of rata-trees growing
at the water's edge. The rata only grows in the hills and near water; it
is a species of broad-leaf myrtle, with a flower exactly like a myrtle
in character, but of a brilliant deep scarlet colour, and twice as
large.
When the bowsprit touched the rata-branches, which drooped like a
curtain into the water, Mr. H---- made a signal to lower the mast, and
parting the thick, blossom-covered foliage before us, with both hands,
the way the boat had on her sent us gently through the screen of scarlet
flowers and glossy green leaves into such a lovely fairy cove! Before us
was a little white beach of fine sparkling sand, against which the water
broke in tiny wavelets, and all around a perfect bower of every variety
of fern and moss, kept green by streams no thicker than a silver thread
trickling down here and there with a subdued tinkling sound. We all
sat quite silent, the boat kept back just inside the entrance by the
steersman holding on to a branch. It was a sudden contrast from the
sparkling sunshine and brightness outside, all life and colour and
warmth, to the tender, green, profound shade and quiet in this "Mossy
Hum," as the people about here call it. Do not fancy anything damp or
chilly. No; it was like a natural temple--perfect repose and refreshment
to the eyes dazzled with the brilliant outside colouring. Centuries ago
there must have been a great landslip here, for the side of the mountain
is quite hollowed out, and Nature has gradually covered the ugly brown
rent with the thickest tapestry of her most delicate handiwork. I
noticed two varieties of the maiden-hair, its slender black stem making
the most exquisite tracery among the vivid greens. There was no tint
of colour except green when once we passed the red-fringed curtain of
rata-branches, only the white and shining fairy beach and the gleaming
threads of water. As we sat there, perfectly still, and entranced,
a sort of delicious mesmeric feeling stole over me; I thought of the
lotus-eater's chant, "There is no joy but calm," with, for, the first
time in my life, a dim perception of what they meant, perhaps; but
it was over all too quickly: prosaic words of direction to back water
called us from shade to light, and in a moment more we were in front of
the rata-trees, admiring their splendid colouring, and our little boat
was dancing away over the bright waves, with her white wings set and her
bows pointed towards the little toy island in the middle of the lake; it
was no question now of rowing, a nice fresh breeze from the south (the
_cold_ point here) sent us swiftly and steadily through the water. What
a morning it was! The air was positively intoxicating, making you feel
that the mere fact of being a living creature with lungs to inhale such
an atmosphere was a great boon. We have a good deal of disagreeable
weather, and a small proportion of bad weather, but in no other part of
the world, I believe, does Nature so thoroughly understand how to make a
fine day as in New Zealand.
A little after mid-day we ran our boat to the lee of the island, and:
whilst she was steadied by the same primitive method of holding on to
branches of manuka and other scrub, I scrambled out and up a little
cliff, where a goat could hardly have found footing, till I reached
a spot big enough to stand on, from whence I anxiously watched the
disembarkation of some of the provisions, and of the gridiron and
kettle. In a few moments we were all safely ashore, and busy collecting
dry fern and brushwood for a fire; it was rather a trial of patience to
wait till the great blaze had subsided before we attempted to cook our
chops, which were all neatly prepared ready for us. Some large potatoes
were put to bake in the ashes; the tin plates were warmed (it is a great
art not to overheat them when you have to keep them on your lap whilst
you eat your chop). We were all so terribly hungry that we were obliged
to have a course of bread and cheese and sardines _first_; it was really
quite impossible to wait patiently for the chops. The officiating cook
scolded us well for our Vandalism, and the next moment we detected him
in the act of devouring a half-raw potato. The fragments of our meal
must have been a great boon to the colony of wekas who inhabit the
island, for as they increase and multiply prodigiously their provisions
must often fall short in so small a space. No one can imagine how these
birds originally came here, for the island is at least two miles from
the nearest point of land; they can neither swim nor fly; and as every
man's hand is against them, no one would have thought it worth while
to bring them over: but here they are, in spite of all the apparent
impossibilities attending their arrival, more tame and impudent than
ever. It was dangerous to leave your bread unwatched for an instant, and
indeed I saw one gliding off with an empty sardine tin in its beak;
I wonder how it liked oil and little scales. They considered a cork a
great prize, and carried several off triumphantly.
After luncheon there was the usual interval of rest, and pipes on the
part of the gentlemen. I explored a little, but there is nothing very
pretty or abundant in the way of wild flowers in the parts of New
Zealand which I have seen. White violets and a ground clematis are the
only ones I have come across in any quantity. The manuka, a sort of
scrub, has a pretty blossom like a diminutive Michaelmas daisy, white
petals and a brown centre, with a very aromatic odour; and this little
flower is succeeded by a berry with the same strong smell and taste of
spice. The shepherds sometimes make an infusion of these when they
are very hard-up for tea; but it must be like drinking a decoction of
cloves.
About three o'clock we re-embarked, and sailed a little higher up the
lake beyond the point where we lose sight of it from Mr. H----'s house,
every moment opening out fresh and more beautiful glimpses. Quite the
opposite end of the shore is fringed with a thick deep forest, and
another station has been built there, at which, I am told, the scenery
is still more magnificent. At first I was inclined to wonder where the
sheep live amid all this picturesque but mountainous country: however,
I find that between and among these hills stretch immense valleys (or
"flats," as they are called here), which are warm and sheltered in
winter, and afford plenty of food for them; then, in summer, they go up
to the mountains: but it is very difficult to "muster" these ranges. I
am almost ashamed to confess to another meal before we returned home,
but there was a lovely tempting spot in a little harbour, and so we
landed and boiled some water and had a capital cup of tea. You require
to be out as we were from morning till night in such an air as this to
know what it is to feel either hungry or sleepy in perfection! The next
day we made a similar excursion, exploring the opposite shore of the
lake; but, before we started, our host distrusted the appearance of
certain clouds, and sent round horses to meet us at the point where
we were going to lunch; and it was just as well he did so, for a stiff
breeze sprang up from the south-west, which would have kept us out all
night. So we mounted the horses instead of re-embarking, having first
secured the boat, and cantered home. We passed several smaller lakes;
there is a perfect chain of them among these hills, and I was much
amused at the names bestowed on them, according to the tastes or caprice
of the station-owners whose runs happen to include them: for instance,
two are called respectively "Geraldine" and "Ida," whilst three, which
lie close together, rejoice in the somewhat extraordinary names of "the
World," "the Flesh," and "the Devil."