CHAPTER XI.

_MY INTRODUCTION TO KAIPARA._

One evening, about three weeks after my return from Cambridge, a hansom

cab drew up at our door, and from it descended my bearded friend of

the Cambridge hotel. I introduced him to my wife, to whom, when he was

comfortably seated, with a refreshing beverage before him, he gave a

glowing description of the Kaipara district.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, with fervour, "when the time comes, as come it

surely will, when people will exercise their own judgments, and not be

led away by flaming puffs in the newspapers, or by extravagant reports

made in the interest of land companies, then the North Kaipara will

assume its proper position in New Zealand, and be known throughout the

length and breadth of the land as the Eden of the North! You think me

over enthusiastic, no doubt; but wait until your husband has returned

from his visit, and he will be just as enthusiastic as I am."

"But do you think he will be able to get work to do there?" questioned

my wife.

"Could not have a better chance. Sure to drop into the county

engineership. Just the man they want. Any amount of work to be

done--bridges, roads, and that sort of thing to be made; and, by

the by, I am going to start a fish-preserving industry--a grand

scheme--thousands of pounds to be made at it; got hold of a German

preparation that will preserve anything. Have a partner in the Waikato

district who has arranged sale for any amount of fish down there. I'm

taking up a lot of tubs and German preparation to the Kaipara with me.

If you settle up there, I'll make your husband manager until county

engineership turns up."

And so it was determined that I should spend a visit of a week's

duration in the Northern Kaipara, and examine the property that was for

sale. My portmanteau was therefore once more brought into requisition,

and on the following Monday afternoon we took our seats in the train

for Helensville, the terminus of the Northern line, from whence a

steamer would convey us to our destination.

The railway journey was decidedly uninteresting, the line passing

through some most dreary looking country, which became more

uninviting as we neared Helensville, a township only impressive by

its unsightliness. It stands on a river whose discoloured waters run

between two banks of mud.

"Surely my bearded friend has been indulging in unlimited quantities

of the colonial amusement known as 'gassing,'" I thought; and feeling

very much tempted to return to Auckland, I expressed my opinion to my

companion pretty freely.

"I fully expected some remarks of the kind--fully expected them," he

replied. "That wretched journey to Helensville is in a great measure

responsible for so little being known of the North Kaipara. People come

up as far as here, and are so disgusted that they turn back. Wait,

however, till we have crossed the Kaipara Harbour, and then give me

your opinion. I fancy it will have undergone a change, sir. Yes; I

_rather_ fancy so. All I ask you is to wait."

We slept that night at an hotel near the railway station, and were

aroused from our slumbers about three o'clock in the morning, and told

to "hurry up," as the boat was ready to start. After hasty ablutions,

therefore, we struggled into our clothes, and speedily transferred

ourselves to the deck of the _Kina_, a screw steamboat of fifty-three

tons register, which was making noise enough with her horrible whistle

and horn for a two thousand tonner.

We steamed away between the mud banks, which gradually widened out, and

at last disappeared altogether as the Kaipara Harbour was reached. This

we crossed in about two hours, and steered for one of the many armlets

of this inland sea, which intersect the Kaipara district in so peculiar

a manner.

The formation of the Northern Kaipara is indeed remarkable, and looks

as though the land at some distant period had cracked and opened from

the harbour in different directions, allowing the sea to rush in and

form the beautiful creeks which everywhere abound. While crossing the

harbour, my opinion, as prophesied by my companion and guide, began

to undergo a change. The scenery there was very pretty; but when we

were fairly in the armlet, which leads with many windings and turns to

Pahi and Matakohe, I became thoroughly charmed. The virgin forests

were there true enough--the native trees reaching to the very water's

edge, with their hanging branches kissing its placid surface. Ferns in

numberless variety--ranging from the gigantic tree fern with stem of

twenty feet down to the dainty maiden hair, together with Nikau and

cabbage palms--fringed the banks, and mingled with the darker green of

the pohutukawa and other trees: at times bold grass-crowned bluffs of

sand or lime stone met our view, giving place again to lovely little

bays with bright shelly beaches and grassy slopes: ever and anon on

either shore one caught glimpses of neat wooden houses, peeping out

of nests of pine and gum trees, and surrounded by green fields of

waving manuka--a background of high forest-covered hills completing the

picture.

I was enraptured. After my recent experience of New Zealand scenery

it appeared to me perfection, and I was prepared fully to indorse my

companion's remark that the North Kaipara was a place worth living in.

The water teemed with fish, which were jumping in every direction,

while birds of various kinds, including duck, teal, shags, eel-hawks,

and flocks of godwit and red-shanked plover, added further life to the

scene.

At last the township of Pahi--where my friend resided--was reached, and

on the steamer mooring to the wharf we landed.

I was most hospitably entertained for a couple of days, and introduced

to many of the settlers residing in the locality; and on the third day

a visit to the gentleman with whom my companion had arranged I should

spend a short time was undertaken. We left Pahi in a flat-bottomed

punt, about fifteen feet long, painted black, and possessing an

uncomfortable resemblance to a coffin with the lid off. The forward

thwart, in which I noticed a split, was pierced for a mast; there was

a seat about the centre of the boat for the rower, and another in the

stern. Two large tubs and a package containing the German preserving

preparation occupied the fore part of the cranky concern, while our

portmanteaus were placed in the stern, and with a pair of sculls

and a broken oar, to which a small sail was attached, completed the

equipment. With some misgiving I stepped in, and we pushed off.

"Are you going to row?" I asked.

"Oh no, we'll sail--rowing is a waste of labour when you've got any

wind," replied my companion, as he adjusted the stump of the oar in the

hole in the damaged thwart. "You sit on the weather gunwale to keep her

trim, and we shall be across in no time," he continued, seating himself

in the stern, and steering by means of a scull.

We found a pretty strong breeze blowing when we got well off the land,

but the punt sat stiff enough with my weight on the weather gunwale,

and we were going along at a grand rate, when an ominous crack was

heard, and over went mast and sail on our lee-side as the damaged

thwart gave way, whilst down went the weather gunwale with me on it. We

did not upset, but we took in a good deal of water, and the bottom of

my coat and a portion of my trousers were saturated. My friend, after

an ineffectual attempt to reinstate the mast, applied himself to the

oars, with the remark that "it was confounded bad luck," and in a short

time we landed in a remarkably pretty bay with a white shelly beach.

My friend's friend, Mr. M----, was there to meet us, and received me

most kindly, saying he was extremely happy to make my acquaintance, and

hoped I would stay with him as long as I could. He promised to give me

some fishing, flat fish spearing, and pig hunting, and to take me to

see the property to be sold, which, it appeared, belonged to my bearded

friend's brother-in-law. I thanked him heartily, and at the same time

expressed my fear that I had been guilty of considerable coolness in

thus taking his house by storm, adding, "My friend here, however, must

share the blame with me."

"Oh! you don't know us up here, or you would never trouble your head

about the matter: we're only too delighted to see you, and will do our

utmost to make your visit an enjoyable one," returned my host; and

thus commenced an agreeable acquaintance, which, I am happy to say,

continues to the present time.

Following him up a steep path winding in and out among high bushes of

New Zealand flax, cabbage palms, fir, acacia, peach, and loquat trees,

the house was reached, at an elevation of some sixty feet above sea

level, and I was speedily placed on a friendly footing with my host's

family, which consisted of his wife, five children, and a governess.

In pleasant conversation the evening slipped away, and before we

retired to rest, a programme, embracing a visit to the property for

sale, a wild pig hunt, and a day's fishing, was drawn up.

Kaipara; or, experiences of a settler in North New Zealand · 第 11 / 27 章