OUR EVENTFUL JOURNEY TO THE LINDIS GOLD DIGGINGS.
The Lindis was one hundred and twenty miles inland from Dunedin. There
was no road, and but for a portion of the way up the valley of the
Waitaki only a rough bullock dray track leading to some isolated sheep
and cattle stations, beyond which there was literally no track at all.
The country was mountainous, and early winter having set in, it was
supposed that much of the higher latitudes would be covered with snow,
but beyond the fact that numbers of pedestrians had during the past
fortnight proceeded towards the Lindis, and that a ship-load of diggers
had arrived from Victoria and were hourly leaving the town, we had
nothing reliable to guide us. We heard that the few sheep-farmers on the
route were much opposed to the influx of diggers, and had publicly
notified that they would not encourage or give them any accommodation on
their stations. This was alarming for the time, but fortunately the
information proved correct in only one instance. It led us, however, to
make such preparation for our journey as would render us to a great
extent independent of assistance on the way.
We purchased a strong one-horse dray which we loaded with about 10 cwt.
of provisions, in the form of flour, tea, sugar, salt, ship biscuits, a
small quantity of spirits for medicinal use and tobacco. Also two small
calico tents, some cooking utensils and blankets, with bush tools,
spades, picks, and axes.
Legge's horse had been broken to harness, and mine was an excellent
draught horse. I omitted to mention that at Timaru I had exchanged my
mare for a strong gelding which had previously run in the mail cart,
getting £10 boot. The swap proved a fortunate one for us, as neither
Smith's nor Fowler's animals had ever been in harness, and "Jack the
Devil" was out of the question. Legge's horse and mine therefore were
destined for the dray, tandem fashion, and upon trial they pulled
splendidly.
When the dray was loaded and covered over with a large waterproof
tarpaulin, and our two fine horses yoked thereto, it looked a very
business-like turn-out. Two of us took it in turn to walk beside the
horses and conduct the team, while the other two rode, accompanied by
"Jack," his pack-saddle laden with our needs for the day and night
halts.
One fine morning in June, 1861, we started from Dunedin, with our
handsome team, the first of its kind that ever travelled the road we
were going, and we started from the smiling little town amidst the
cheers and good wishes of those we left behind.
For the first few days all was fairly smooth sailing. We travelled about
twenty miles each day, camping or resting independently of stations, and
the track so far being formed by wool drays, was on the whole feasible,
although we had occasionally to make good the crossings over creeks and
rivers.
On the evening of the third day we arrived at a small cattle station
belonging to a Mr. Davis, where were a number of diggers resting for the
night. Mr. Davis was one of those hospitably inclined to the diggers,
but as he could not be expected to feed such numbers for nothing, he
notified that meals would be charged for at one shilling per head. This
was eagerly and gratefully responded to, and upwards of two hundred men
were assembled at the station the evening we arrived.
The kitchen and dining hut being unable to accommodate more than twelve
or fifteen at once, a multitude had to remain outside while each gang
went in, in turn, to be fed.
Inside the scene was curious. An enormous fire of logs blazed on the
hearth, which occupied one entire end of the hut, over which were
suspended two huge pots filled with joints of mutton, beef, and
doughboys, boiling indiscriminately together. They were frequently being
removed to the table and others substituted in their place. The pots
were flanked by large kettles of water, into which, when on the boil, a
handful or two of tea would be thrown. After a few minutes the decoction
would be poured into an iron bucket, some milk and sugar added, and
placed upon the table, where each man helped himself by dipping his
pannikin therein.
Fortunately the hungry seekers after gold were not particular about
their meat being a shade over or under cooked; they were glad to accept
what they got, and indeed right wholesome food it was. The doughboys
were simply large lumps of dough, made of flour and water, used as a
substitute for bread, of which a sufficient quantity could not be
prepared for the immense demand.
We obtained our turn in due time, and after a hearty meal retired to the
quarters we had pitched upon for the night--viz., a straw shed where we
rolled our blanket around us and slept soundly.
The following evening, after a severe day's journey, we arrived wet and
fagged at the next station, Miller and Gooche's. Here a similar scene
was being enacted, and here, in common with many other diggers, we were
obliged to remain for several days owing to severe weather setting in.
Miller and Gooche's station was situated at the junction of a tributary
stream with the Waitaki, at the entrance of a rugged and mountainous
gorge. From this point our real difficulties were to begin, as we would
diverge from the main valley we had hitherto followed, and work our way
over a rough tract of hilly country, up ravines and spurs to the great
pass, then pretty certain to be covered with snow.
For the four days during which we were detained at this station it
rained, sleeted, and snowed alternately and unceasingly. There were
upwards of one hundred and fifty men there, and the station running
short of flour, a supply had to be procured from Davis's, where luckily
a large store had been collected.
Most diggers possessed nothing beyond the clothes they wore, with a
blanket and a kettle, and many had no money wherewith to pay for food,
so the squatters were obliged to make a virtue of necessity and give
free where there was no chance of payment, and this they did right
willingly. As for the diggers, I must say so much for them that, rough
fellows as they were, they paid freely and gratefully all they could,
and I did not hear of a single instance of robbery or outrage save one,
and we were the victims of that. It was merely the abstraction,
emptying, and replacing on our dray of a case of "Old Tom," all the
spirits we possessed, and we did not discover the loss until too late
for any chance of detecting the delinquents.
At Miller and Gooche's we passed four very miserable days. The two small
huts and the sheep shed were filled to overflowing, and we lay on the
floor of the latter at night, cold, stiff, dirty, and packed into our
places like sardines. The rain and sleet, slop, cold, and offensive
odour combined would need to be experienced to be appreciated; it was
indescribable and the greatest and most disagreeable of anything I
experienced before or since of such a mixture.
At length the weather cleared, and in company with another dray just
arrived from Dunedin, and got up in imitation of ours, we started for
the pass, not without grave misgivings of what might be before us.
The first day we made five miles. Our route lay along the course of a
large creek bounded both sides by precipitous hills. The recent rain had
swollen the stream, and either obliterated or washed away the rough dray
track, which even at its best was not suited for the passage of a horse
team. We were therefore obliged to cut a way in and out of the nullah
wherever we crossed; so some idea may be formed of our day's work. We
were fortunate in being accompanied by the fresh dray, indeed without
it, and the assistance given by a number of the diggers who kept with
us, and with whom we shared our food, I do not think we would have
succeeded in getting over the Lindis Pass, at any rate not nearly so
expeditiously as we did. When we came to an exceptionally difficult and
steep pull, the drays were taken over one at a time with three horses
yoked, and all hands helping them.
On the morning of the second day we were still four miles from the pass,
and it took very severe work from men and horses to negotiate the
remainder of that fast narrowing, steep and rugged bed, and late in the
afternoon to reach the summit. It was, as we anticipated, covered with
snow.
The cold that night was intense, and we had difficulty in procuring
before dark set in enough brushwood to keep up a small fire for more
than a few hours. It was here we discovered the loss of the "Old Tom"
which we had meant to save for just such a special occasion as this. Now
that we were half-frozen and without means of bettering our condition
for the night, it was proposed to open the first bottle, and have a nip
round for ourselves and comrades. Our chagrin and disappointment may be
imagined when we found the twelve bottles to contain only water.
I often wondered how we got through that night; one or two of us alone
must surely have perished. Our safety lay in our number. We rolled our
blankets tightly round us and lay down close together on the wet and now
fast freezing ground, and lit our pipes, and then we slept. Tired as we
were, nothing could keep sleep from us--even if we were to be frozen
during it.
For the horses we had collected a little grass and carried it on the
drays, but they had a bad time of it, and the icicles hung from their
manes and tails in the morning as they stood shivering with their backs
turned to the keen mountain blast.
However, we all survived, and were none the worse, and as soon as it was
light we gathered enough brushwood to make a rousing fire, by which we
melted the frozen snow and ice from our blankets, and from the harness
before we could put it on the horses.
We soon finished a hearty breakfast of mutton grilled in the hot ashes,
and hot tea, and proceeded to get ready for the day's work, which we
knew would be a heavy one if we were to get over the pass before
sundown.
It was two miles to the top, but such a two miles to take a horse dray
over. The gradient was not only very steep and rough, but it was covered
with six to eighteen inches of snow, except in some few exposed parts
where it had drifted off and left the surface nearly bare. There was no
track to guide us beyond a very uncertain and irregular one made by a
few pedestrians and horses who had preceded us the evening before when
we had been delayed by the drays.
We decided to take the drays over separately, yoking all four horses to
each in turn, tandem fashion, by means of ropes with which we were well
provided. Just as we were about to start the first, a party of diggers
arrived, who volunteered to push and spoke the wheels. Thanks to these
men and the game, honest horses, our difficulties were considerably
lightened. Some went before to clear the snow where it lay thickest, but
this was soon abandoned as labour in vain.
We found that the utmost efforts of the four horses, assisted by half a
dozen men, were only sufficient to drag the dray from twenty to fifty
yards at a spurt, then on stopping to take a breath a log was thrown
behind the wheels, and after a few moments' rest another spurt was made,
and so on.
Our progress was so satisfactory that before nightfall both drays were
safely over the pass and we had proceeded down the opposite side as far
as an out-station of McLean's, on whose run we now were. Here we learned
to our joy that we were within twenty-five miles of the reported
diggings, with a fairly passable track all the way.
Mr. R. McLean was a wealthy sheep farmer who had originally made his
money on the Australian goldfields. His present attitude therefore
towards the diggers was considered the more cruel. He had given orders
at all his out-stations that neither food nor shelter was to be afforded
them, and upon our arrival at the shepherd's hut aforesaid, the
occupant, a worthy Scotsman, informed us with regret that we would have
to arrange for our accommodation in the open, it being as much as his
place was worth to feed or shelter diggers. This was unpleasant news,
as we hoped to have taken up our quarters in his hut that night after
our severe camping out the previous four days.
Although the diggings broke out in McLean's run he had no power to
prevent the land being worked upon, excepting only such portions of it
as were private property, but he discouraged and put obstacles in the
way of the diggers in any form he could, some said because he knew as an
experienced digger himself that they would not pay. Whether this was the
case or not, he might have understood the impossibility of stopping a
gold rush in its infancy, while its value was still an unknown quantity.
Our last stage the following day was for the greater part by one of the
most picturesque valleys I had yet seen. Mr. McLean had made a very fair
road from the Lindis Pass boundary to his home station, which latter was
only some five miles from the diggings, so it was very different
travelling to what we had experienced on the other side. The track first
wound along a deep ravine with rugged precipitous sides, mostly clothed
with evergreen underwood from which huge masses of rock would now and
then emerge, and sometimes overhanging a rushing torrent which had been
swelled by the recent heavy rains and thus enhanced the effect on this
glorious sunny morning. The waterfalls and cascades sparkled in a
hundred colours, wheeling, foaming, and dashing in a mad race amidst
huge rocks, till lost in shadow beneath a precipice or overhanging mass
of variegated bush. The gorge then opened out into a level amphitheatre,
with the river, grown calm and broad, winding peacefully, and surrounded
by the mountains in all their enchanting shades of colour, and the
distant peaks capped with snow.
Then another gorge of more imposing grandeur with a magnificent view
beyond and through it, closed in turn by a sombre pine forest swept by
the river, now grown larger and deeper, dancing and racing like a living
thing in the brilliant sunshine and rare atmosphere of a New Zealand
morning.
How well I remember the whole trip with all its roughness and all its
beauty, its very contrasts no doubt helping to impress it upon the
memory. Such scenes and incidents are difficult to forget, even if one
would, and each and all are as distinct to my mind in almost every
detail at this moment as if I had been with them only yesterday, instead
of more than forty years ago.