I UNDERTAKE EMPLOYMENT WITH A BUSH CONTRACTOR--GET SERIOUSLY
ILL--START FOR THE SOUTH AND THE GOLD DIGGINGS.
I had now been more than a month on the Ashburton, but as I could not
expect home letters yet for some weeks, and was getting tired of mere
amusement, I accepted an offer made me to join in a new line of work.
A man named Metcalfe, a relative of a neighbouring squatter, had lately
started work as a bush contractor, and had just then undertaken to
construct a number of station buildings for a run holder on the
Ashburton. Metcalfe was an experienced bushman and a good rough
carpenter. He asked me to join him and I at once accepted.
We would have to fell and cut up our own timber in the forest, cart it
down some forty miles, and construct all the works without other
assistance.
Our first business was to provide a habitation for ourselves in the
forest, as we required to stay there a month or two while cutting the
necessary timber. We laid out a space 10 feet by 12 feet, drove in posts
at the corners, and nailed a strong rail on top, then we felled and
split up into slabs a number of white pine trees, and set them upwards
all round with their edges overlapping and nailed them at the top to the
rail, or, more properly, wall plate, the feet of the slabs being set a
few inches in the ground. Over this enclosure we made a sloping
framework of wickers (fine saplings) and covered it with an old tent
which Metcalfe possessed. At one end of the hut we constructed a wide
fireplace and chimney in the same manner, and hung up an old blanket
over the space left for a doorway. The inside of the slab walls and
chimney we wattled with mud and laths, which we split up, and plastered
over with mud and chopped grass. We made rough cots with wickers and
slabs, raised a foot above the ground, so as to form seats as well as
beds, and covered them with a thick layer of minuka branches, which made
capital springy mattresses, and over all we laid our blankets. For a
table we split and dressed fairly smooth a pine slab a foot wide in
which we bored four holes and inserted therein wicker legs. Our mansion
was now complete and it had not occupied two days to build.
We rose at daybreak, boiled a kettle of tea, which with cold baked
mutton and damper formed our breakfast, then to work till 12 o'clock,
when we took an hour for dinner, and again to work till dark, when we
adjourned to the hut, and after a visit to the creek for ablutions, and
seeing that our horses were watered and put on fresh pasture for the
night, we sat down to supper by a rousing fire, then lit pipes and
chatted or read till it was time to turn in, when the fire was raked
over, and the damper of bread inserted under the hot ashes to be ready
for the morning. During the evening also one of us made the bread; the
camp oven would be put on the fire with sufficient mutton to last us for
two or three days. It was a grand life for healthy, strong fellows as we
were, living and working alone in a virgin forest, with no sound around
us but the rippling of the brook and the whisper of the wind through the
foliage of the tall pines, or the ringing of our axes, with every now
and then the crashing fall of a huge tree.
I should remark here that the black and white pine (so called) of New
Zealand is not by any means similar to that which grows in Europe. They
grow straight and tall, it is true, but for fully half their height
throw out heavy and numerous branches thickly covered all the year round
with very small evergreen leaves. The trees are easily cut up and split
into posts and rails, or sawn into boards. At the time I refer to the
forests were free to all settlers for their home needs on the payment of
a nominal fee to the Provincial Government.
The timber in due time was felled, cut up, and carted to the station,
and we removed our camp to the site of the operations. It was a bleak,
wild place, three miles from the south mail track, and consisted only of
a small slab hut or two with a wool shed and sheep yards. The owner, Mr.
T. Moorhouse, had lately purchased the run, and was about to improve and
reside on it. A description of our life here would not be interesting,
so I will pass over three months during which we worked steadily and the
buildings were nearly complete, when one day, as I was nailing the
shingles on a roof under a powerful sun, I suddenly felt sick and giddy,
and was obliged to go inside and lie down. The same evening I developed
a severe attack of gastric fever which three days after turned to a
kind of brain fever, and for nigh on six weeks I lay betwixt life and
death. For half of this time I lay on the floor in a corner of the new
building, the bare ground with a layer of tea leaves for my bed, the
noise grinding into my brain when I was at all conscious, and only
Metcalfe (good man that he was) with an old Scottish shepherd to look
after me when they could find time to do so. No doctor, medicine, or
attendance of any kind was procurable nearer than sixty miles away, with
a weekly post. One night, to make me sleep they gave me laudanum (a
bottle of which Metcalfe had with him for toothache) and the following
morning I was discovered standing on the brink of an artificial pond
nearly a quarter of a mile off, barefoot and half naked, to reach which
I must have walked over places I could not easily have passed in my
senses. This was when the brain attack came on, and for a week I lay, I
was told, almost unconscious. Metcalfe contrived to send some
information to Christchurch, and after I had been down for over three
weeks Moorhouse arrived and removed me to his own hut, where he looked
after me for some time. Then he had me carried to and fixed up in his
dog cart and drove me sixty miles over the plains in a single day to
Christchurch, where I arrived a good bit more dead than alive, but to
find a comfortable room, and every attendance and luxury a sick man
could wish for, prepared for me by my good friends Mr. and Mrs. Gresson.
I must have taken a good deal of killing in those days, but the drive to
Christchurch, severe as it was, saved me, and in three weeks I was
myself again.
When I was convalescent I found letters from home awaiting me. My father
sent a little money, but wished me to utilise it in paying my passage
home, and appeared to have lost faith in my doing any good in New
Zealand; but I was more determined than ever to remain. Was I not
accumulating colonial experiences, and always found employment of some
kind awaiting me? and I was still very young--only a little over
eighteen. The free life I had spent for nearly two years had had its
effect, and I could not consent to throw it up, at any rate not just
yet.
The doctors who had attended me expressed their opinions that I had
overtaxed my strength at work to which I was not accustomed, and forbade
my undertaking anything of the kind for a while. This of course was
nonsense, but I saw no reason why I should not enjoy a holiday for a
month or so in Christchurch till I had settled future plans.
Just at this time I received a letter from Smith, informing me that the
run he had charge of was sold, and having thereby lost his appointment,
he was coming to Christchurch _en route_ for Otago on a voyage of
enterprise, and invited me to join him. This was excellent; the
wandering disposition was again strong upon me, and I looked forward to
such a trip to a new part of the country in company with my old friend
with the keenest delight. I agreed to his proposal at once, and
immediately he arrived we set to work to make preparations for our
journey south, although where that journey was to lead us or of what
might be before us we were profoundly ignorant; but that knowledge or
want of knowledge enhanced the glory of the movement. We were a couple
of free lances starting to seek what might turn up, and eventually we
were led into a new and very interesting experience, even if it did not
turn out a remunerative one.
After paying my expenses in Christchurch, I possessed about £50 in cash
and a valuable and well-bred mare. Smith's possessions were about on an
equivalent. We decided to travel with one pack horse, and for this
purpose we purchased between us for £15, a notorious buckjumper, called
"Jack the Devil," and if ever deformity of temper and the lowest vice
were depicted in an animal's face and bearing, this beast possessed them
in an eminent degree. Although small and not beautiful to look at, he
was very powerful, and had he been less vicious his price would have
been treble what we obtained him for, but nobody cared to own him.
How well I remember the first time he was loaded, how quietly he stood
with the whites of his eyes rolling and girths swelled until all was
apparently secure, and then in less time than I can relate, how saddle
and swags were scattered to the winds.
Smith was a determined fellow and a Yorkshireman to boot, and he had no
intention of giving in to Jack; on the contrary, this little exhibition
of devilry made him all the more determined to discover Jack's weak
point and take the devil out of him.
The pack saddle was gathered up and taken to the harness maker along
with the animal, and the two were put together in such a manner that if
he again bucked it off, some part of Jack's personality would have to
accompany it. The next trial was more successful, and after a few
attempts he gave in, and from that day he became a most docile pack
horse.
On the eve of starting we were joined by our mutual friend Legge, who
had been some years overseer of a station. He was a smart, handy fellow,
and although he did not contribute much in the way of financial
assistance, we were glad to have him join our party, knowing him to be
dependable, plucky, and good-tempered.
At length we started, and after journeying through the scene of our late
life on the Ashburton and Rangitata, we arrived without adventure at the
then small town of Timaru on the sea coast, about a hundred miles south.
Here we found the inhabitants in great excitement over news just arrived
that gold had been discovered in large quantities on the Lindis, about
one hundred and twenty miles inland from Dunedin in Otago. We, in common
with every one else, were, of course, immediately infected with the gold
mania, the more so as we were bent on adventure of any kind that might
turn up, and here was an unexpected piece of good fortune ready to our
hands. During our few days sojourn at Timaru we made another addition to
our party in the person of a man named Fowler, whom, at his urgent
request, we permitted to accompany us in our now proposed expedition to
the gold diggings.
We arranged to start at once, and deferred preparations until we would
arrive at Dunedin, the capital and port of Otago, and which, with fair
marching, we hoped to reach on the third day.
We travelled in the usual bush fashion, each man with his swags strapped
before and behind his saddle, Jack the Devil carrying our provisions and
cooking kit, etc. Upon halting for the night we selected some suitable
spot near running water where wood for a fire could be obtained. Each
unsaddled, watered, and tethered out his horse and carried his swags to
the camping ground, where Jack's load was removed and placed ready for
use. Then while one fetched water another collected a supply of firewood
for the night. A roaring fire was made, water boiled for tea, flour and
water mixed into a paste and fried in dripping or fat, with the meat we
had brought along with us, or maybe a leg of mutton would be baked in
the camp oven; and so, within an hour, we four bushmen would be
squatting comfortably around our fire and enjoying an excellent supper.
The meal being over we carefully washed and put away the utensils and
food ready for the morning, and after visiting the horses, settled
ourselves in our respective positions for the night, lit pipes, spun
yarns, or sang songs, till drowsiness claimed us, and we disappeared
under our blankets with our saddles for pillows and slept only as those
who lead the life of a bushman can.
We rose before daybreak, and ere the sun had well appeared had eaten our
primitive breakfast and were in the saddle for the march. On the evening
of the third day we reached the Waitaki river, which separates
Canterbury from Otago, and is the largest in the South Island. The
Waitaki was never fordable at this point, and passengers were ferried
across in a small boat behind which the horses were swum. This latter is
a somewhat dangerous operation unless expertly carried out; a horse
which may be a powerful swimmer being able to work a swift stream so
much faster than a boat can be rowed, there is danger that he may strike
and overturn the latter, and so he must not be allowed to get above or
ahead of the boat, but be kept in his place immediately behind.
The boat on being started from one bank or shingle spit must have fair
room to work obliquely to a lower landing place on the opposite side,
without running foul of shoals or sandspits, and as the current runs
with great rapidity the voyage across is usually three or four times as
long as the stream is wide.
At this river we found an accommodation house. I forget the name of the
occupier, but I well recollect the appearance of the wretched structure,
and of its landlord and landlady. What a pair of outcasts they looked,
and how they existed on that wild bed of shingle! Their tastes must have
been simplicity itself, and little satisfied them here below.
The landlord and his wife, with one other man, who assisted with the
boat, were the only sojourners on this desert bed. Few travellers stayed
at their wretched tenement, because being only ten miles from Dunedin
they were generally able to push on, and partly because the locality did
not possess pasturage for horses; and so with the exception of what they
derived from selling an occasional nip of poisonous liquor to a passing
traveller, their emoluments were derived from the ferry alone.
We were not fortunate enough to arrive in time to cross that evening,
and were perforce obliged to stay at the accommodation hut till morning,
or else return half a mile to where pasture was obtainable. The
landlord, however, produced some hay and oats, and cleaned out his shed,
in which we were able to put two of the horses, while the others were
tied out, and so to save time and trouble we decided to make the best of
what fare we could obtain.
The house comprised one room with a closet or bar off it. In the room,
which was well enough when lit up by a good fire, we all supped together
round a rough table with boxes from the bar for seats, our food the
usual description, the junk of mutton boiled with lumps of dough called
damper, and the landlady produced some plates, while we used our own
clasp knives. Soon after, our weary bodies were strewn over the floor
wherever we could individually select a fairly even spot, and the
landlady, I believe, retired into the bar.
The following morning we put ourselves, horses, and baggage safely
across the Waitaki, and by 10 o'clock arrived in Dunedin.
Dunedin was situated, like Port Lyttelton, on rising undulating ground,
encompassed by an amphitheatre of hills which, to the south, extended to
a point or promontory and gave shelter to the little harbour. Also, like
Lyttelton, the latter was an open roadstead, but on the town front was
bounded by a steep bank from which the narrow strand beneath was reached
by a wide cutting. The town was quite in its infancy, but already
possessed some well-laid-out streets and handsome wooden buildings.
As we anticipated, we found the good folk of Dunedin much exercised
about the gold diggings. They were the first discovered in the country,
and the town was in a fever of excitement for news of their success or
otherwise. No very reliable information had come, but such as was
obtainable appeared sufficiently satisfactory and encouraging to justify
our making immediate arrangements for transporting ourselves thither.