THE SOUTH ISLAND OF NEW ZEALAND: ITS ALPS AND MOUNTAIN LAKES.
Very cold and miserable we looked and felt as we stood on the platform of
the station at Christchurch that morning, when Mr. Scott, who had read
for the bar at the same time as my husband, having heard of our probable
arrival, greeted and took us off to Coker's Hotel.
He came at twelve o'clock again, and drove us down Manchester Street,
which looks exactly like the High Street of some pretty, quiet English
town, to the Cathedral of Christchurch. It is the only cathedral in New
Zealand, and is built from a design of Sir Gilbert Scott's. The transepts
and the chancel are in process of building as the funds come in, and the
nave is finely proportioned, but the interior as yet presents a very
bare, unfinished appearance. We ascended the tower, which has a fine peal
of bells, and going out on each of the four balconies on either side,
we had as many bird's-eye views of the town and surrounding country.
The main streets are cruciform, converging and meeting in the cathedral
square. The conformation of the city is laid out on the following plan.
In the centre are the streets and shops and public buildings, then a
broad belt of parks and public gardens; and now that Christchurch numbers
a population of 50,000, it has overflowed beyond into suburbs, which
are becoming as populous as the town itself. There are steam and horse
tramways, and an abundance of hansom cabs.
We drove out to Riccarton, a suburb three miles away, to see the Hon.
George and Mrs. Rodney, friends in England, and then to Ilam, Mr.
Leonard Harper's pretty gabled house, with the large English garden, and
tennis-grounds, through which runs the swift stream of the Avon. Mr.
Scott then took us on to have tea with Mr. and Mrs. Lance at Oakover.
Mr. Lance is one of the proprietors of the Middle Park stud, which has
done so much to improve the breed of horses in Canterbury. They have nine
horses in training for the November races at Christchurch, and were most
anxious for us to go out there one day to see the early morning gallop.
It is very remarkable how passionately fond every one in Australasia is
of horse-racing, and all the chief towns have their race-course, with
spring and autumn meetings.
_Wednesday, October 15th._--Arrangements had been made for us from
Wellington to make an expedition to Horsley Down, to see a sheep-run
belonging to Mr. Lance. We started at 7 a.m. in a blinding snow-storm,
doubtful as to the wisdom of the start under such circumstances.
We meandered along in the train over the flat Canterbury plain, which is
overrun with beautiful yellow gorse. So profuse has become its growth,
that, though it is useful to them for hedges, the farmers look upon it as
a nuisance. It has been remarked that they are truly ungrateful about it;
for thirty years ago this rich plain was one vast field of tussock grass,
with not a bush or shrub growing on it, and the gorse was planted by the
first settlers to form some protection for the crops and cattle. The
whole of the Canterbury Plain is let in small holdings, varying from 200
to 500 acres, and the farms look most thriving and prosperous. All the
cottages, farm-houses, and station premises are roofed with corrugated
iron zinc, and our loathing of this wearisome material that is used in
such prodigious quantities in the colonies began. With a felt lining it
forms a warm, durable, and cheap roofing, easily erected without skilled
labour. When whole houses were erected of it I could never lose the
idea that they were the mission chapels of dissent at home. The North
Island is a barren and sterile desert when compared to the prosperity and
population of the South Island, but then the North Island belongs chiefly
to the Maoris, and this to the English in the north, and the Scotch in
the south. To have seen only the North Island would be to see New Zealand
in its primitive state; to have seen the South Island--New Zealand in
the full vigour of a rapid development. The fact that the great shipping
and commercial interest of the Islands is at Dunedin, and the great
educational and agricultural centre at Christchurch, alone evidences the
superiority of the south.
We left the plain, and began a gradual ascent, through a pass in the
hills, where the scene grew wild and bleak, and by 11 p.m. we were at
the small station of Waikari. Mr. Lance met us with a smart dog-cart and
tandem, and we had a beautiful though bitterly cold drive, going along
a smooth flat road for seven miles, to the station at Horsley Down. We
passed a few huts and tumble-down shanties, belonging to "croppers," or
men who break up and "crop" the land for a couple of years, at a rent of
ten shillings per acre, after which it is sown in grass for the owner,
the cropper moving elsewhere.
It was wonderful in this bleak, hilly country, generally called "tussock
land," to see what changes of colour and vivid bits of colouring there
were; a patch of bright green against the dark earth of a newly-ploughed
field, the yellow of the tussock-grass against the bit of chalky grey
cliff, and over all the clear wintry sky flecked with clouds. The range
of Southern Alps before us were clothed in a pure white covering of newly
fallen snow, looking blue in the shadows of the gullies; their highest
peaks rise to a height of from 7000 to 10,000 feet, and as we approached
nearer to their dazzling whiteness we saw the station lying underneath
them, the "run" stretching up to the lower ranges.
Mr. Lance, with his brother, has 120,000 acres, on which he runs 70,000
merino sheep. The sheep are managed by an overseer and six shepherds,
all Highlanders, who earn 70_l_. a year each. Except the stud sheep, the
flocks are rarely seen from one shearing-time to another, living out on
the hills, on the tussock-grass, which gives them excellent pasture.
It was strange to think that thousands were lying out in the snow on
those hills, and that yet the loss is only two per cent., or the same as
cattle-ranching in America when the cattle remain out all the winter. The
house was a small lodge, with an Italian fountain in front, which looked
singularly out of place, facing towards the range called the Black Hills.
There was a thick plantation of tall Scotch firs and eucalypti, growing
round the house as a shelter from the fierce winds that blow across these
exposed plains. The shearing had been delayed owing to the bad weather,
but was to commence the following Friday in the large shed holding
thirty-two shearers. These shearers travel about the country, going from
one station to another during the shearing season. They are given their
"tucker" and bunks in a shed fitted up for that purpose, and are paid
at the rate of 1_l._ per every 100 sheep shorn; and a very good man can
shear 100 a day.
We saw the skirting-board on which the fleece is laid out, the locks
clipped and rolled up. There it is passed to the judge, who, by the
quality of the texture, classifies it into one of the four divisions. So
great is the dexterity of this classifier, that a glance will tell him
the quality of the staple. A curious story is told in evidence of this.
At a large agricultural show held at Christchurch not long ago, the best
judge was shown a staple of wool coming _from Australia_. He immediately
identified it as the wool of a brother of "Jason," the celebrated stud
ram, which we saw, belonging to Mr. Lance, who gave between 300 and 400
guineas for him.
We saw the pressing machine for packing the bales for export, and "the
race," along which the sheep pass in single file, on to the slanting
board at the end, from which they involuntarily slide down into the
trough filled with Cooper's Sulphuric Mixture. After being dipped in
this, and made to swim the length of the trough, they land on another
slanting board, that the dip may run off, and none of Cooper's precious
mixture be lost. Then they are taken into a shed and branded, those that
have been badly cut by the shearer (which but rarely happens) having tar
rubbed into the cuts.
Each sheep shorn is accounted worth five shillings. Mr. Lance also kills
for export, and recently sent 13,000 frozen carcases to England, which
sold for 4½_d._ per pound. Immediately afterwards the price went up to
6½_d._ Freight has to be paid before departure, and all risks are with
the owner. Merino sheep give the finest wool, but it is less long in the
staple than Lincoln's. Their meat, on account of the dark colour, is not
much liked in England; but we had an excellent saddle of it for luncheon.
Everything about the station was very rough and untidy--they say it is
the only way to make it pay; and there were quantities of horses and
dogs--but none of good breed or quality. We passed some "swaggers" on
the way back to Waikara. These men walk the country with their packs or
"swags" on their backs, rolled up in a blanket, and get board and lodging
at the stations they pass through. They are never refused a night's
shelter and food (for the good reason that a revenge, such as firing the
stacks, is dreaded), and there is always accommodation for them in the
bunks for the shearers. With shearers, "swaggers," and odd men about the
place, there are sometimes 100 extra to feed on the "run," but they are
given no beer, and tea is the favourite drink.
We returned to Christchurch, and were home late that evening.
_Thursday, October 16th._--I went to the museum in the morning; it is
considered the best arranged in the colonies, and owes it to Dr. von
Haast. He has obtained specimens from all parts of the world by the
exchange of Moa bones, which are found exclusively about Christchurch.
This native bird has been extinct for over 1000 years, but they
have several perfect skeletons in the museum, the largest standing
twenty-seven feet high.
Then I wandered through the gardens, where there are pretty walks
following the windings of the Avon. Whispering avenues of willow-trees
overhang the river, and they are nearly always green, only out of leaf
for six weeks of the year.
The mayor and Mr. Charles Bowen, who has been prominent in the promotion
of education, took C. over the University of New Zealand, Christ College,
the High School for boys and girls, and the Normal Schools.
The university has affiliated colleges in Dunedin and Auckland. The
degrees it grants are of the first order, and the examinations are
conducted by English professors, through the post. Christ's College
is a first-rate public school. It has 200 pupils, and boarders and
day-boys. The terms are moderate, its premises very fine, and its system
unequalled. At the High School for girls a first-rate education is given
for sixteen guineas a year. C. found the president, a young lady of no
small personal attraction, arrayed in a Master of Arts gown, teaching a
class of girls the sixth book of Euclid; and another lady-professor was
eloquently lecturing on the Latin derivation of French verbs. At the
Normal Schools, an absolutely free and admirable education is given by
the state to 1200 boys and girls, including many whose parents are in
prosperous if not affluent circumstances.
There is very pleasant genial society at Christchurch, and it is by far
the most English of all the towns in Australasia. We agreed afterwards
in thinking that we should have chosen to live there, were we coming to
settle in the colonies.
_Friday, October 17th._--We left Christchurch by the express at 8 a.m.
for Dunedin. It is called express only by comparison with the usual speed
of fifteen miles, and I suppose travels about twenty miles an hour,
taking just twelve hours to reach Dunedin.
We passed over the Canterbury Plains with their golden lines of yellow
gorse hedges, bounded on one side by the Southern Alps,--that mighty
backbone of the South Island, covered with freshly fallen snow--and by
the ocean on the other.
The line gradually converged towards the sea, until we ran along the
shore, as we reached Timaru.
After leaving Timaru, we ought to have seen the weather-worn peak of
Mount Cook, the highest (10,000 feet) point of the Southern Alps, and
familiar to many now, from the reading of Mr. Green's interesting account
in the High Alps of New Zealand, of his ascent of Mount Cook.
After crossing the stony bed of the Waitaki, which forms the
boundary-line between the provinces of Canterbury and Otago, the country
may be said to be peopled and owned by the Scotch, who form in the
province of Otago one large settlement.
We arrived at Oamaru in the course of the afternoon. The town is very
remarkable for these parts, being built of cream-coloured stone, quarried
in the neighbourhood and easy to work. It produced such a handsome, solid
effect to us, accustomed by this time to the usual frail tenements of
wood. A saloon carriage had been sent up from Dunedin for us, and was
attached to the train, and I ought to have mentioned that the minister of
public works had given us a free pass over all the New Zealand Railways.
The railways throughout the country are under the control of government,
and do not belong to companies. We noticed how the English names
predominated in the stations along the Canterbury portion of the line,
showing in many cases the homes of the first settlers in the old country,
such as, Norwood, Chertsey, Ealing, Winchester, Richmond, Goodwood, and
many others. It was unlike the North Island, where the names are chiefly
Maori.
A very wild, beautiful bit of country, noticing the wonderful harbours
nature has provided along the deeply indented coast and the train went
over the Blueskin Cliffs.
Port Chalmers, with its large dockyard and wharves, looked a pretty
seafaring little town, half-built on the peninsula formed by the sea on
one side, and the arm of it that runs inland, on the other, making a
broad river that passes by Dunedin. A concrete wall has been made, to
force the current into a channel which is being gradually deepened, so
that vessels of large draught will be able to anchor at the city wharfs.
The citizens fully realize the immense importance of this work, and are
showing great energy and enterprise, and expending large sums of money
on the scheme. Skirting along by the sea, lighted buoys marking the
course of the channel, we saw a dark hill before us, illuminated with
innumerable bright spots of light, clustering thickly at the bottom, and
at 8 p.m. we ran into the station of Dunedin.
The Grand Hotel here is the largest and most handsomely furnished hotel,
not only in New Zealand but in the whole of Australasia. The proprietor
has to pay 2000_l_. a year for his ground-rent alone, and thirty years
ago that same plot of land is said to have been given in exchange for a
cow.
_Saturday, October 18th._--The mayor called and took C. over the gaol,
the Town Hall, and the new High School. At noon we drove out with Mr.
Weldon, the head of the police, and Mr. Cargill, the son of Captain
Cargill, the first leader of the colony of Otago, to Burnside, the
manufacturing suburb of Dunedin, to see the works of the New Zealand Meat
Freezing Company.
The sheep are slaughtered in a line, by eight butchers, who can each kill
his fifty a day. The carcases hang for twenty-four hours, and are then
placed in the freezing chambers, in a temperature ten or twelve degrees
below freezing-point. By means of machinery the air is compressed and
reduced to freezing-point, and pumped into the freezing rooms, which
are of different degrees of temperature. Putting on extra wraps, we
went into these rooms. The thick, misty air was intensely cold, icicles
hung from the roof, and the carcases were frosted with ice. We passed
between rows and rows of the ghastly carcases, their truncated bodies
drooping pathetically towards the ground. Lighted only by a lantern,
there was something awful in looking round in the misty dusk and seeing
nothing but the pink carcases of hundreds of dead sheep. We tapped them
with a hammer, and they resounded like wood. After two days in the
freezing-rooms, each carcase is tied into a sack, and is then ready for
export. A branch line to the railway runs into the shed, and they are
killed, frozen, and shipped at the rate of 1_s._ 2_d._ per pound.
On board ship the store chambers are maintained at 20° Fahrenheit, and
the meat will keep for any length of time, until thawed.
The meat-freezing trade ought to form one of New Zealand's great exports,
with her rich pasture and sheep runs, and small home consumption; but
several large meat-freezing companies have lately temporarily suspended
operations, owing to the fall in price of the English market. The
exporters say it cannot pay them unless the price is maintained between
6_d._ and 7_d._ per pound.
We had luncheon with Mr. and Mrs. Cargill at "The Cliffs." It is a
concrete house, built on the top of a hill at the cliffs, and commanding
a fine view of the coast for many miles. On the ocean beach below, the
surf of the South Pacific is for ever rolling in, in long breakers that
leave their track of foam on the sandy shore of the cove.
Dunedin was founded in 1848, by a colony of Scotch settlers, under the
leadership of Captain Cargill, who, at the instance of the late Thomas
Chambers, called the town Dunedin, the ancient name for Edinburgh. It is
the largest of the New Zealand towns, is the great centre of commercial
activity, and has the finest stone buildings. Princes' Street is broad
and handsome, and contains the magnificent structure of the Bank of New
Zealand. Besides, there is the Museum, the Post Office, the Hospital, the
High School, the University and Government Buildings, all built of the
same cream-coloured Bath stone.
There are nine separate municipalities within Dunedin and its suburbs.
The entire population is Scotch; and when you think that it is only
thirty years ago since the first settlers arrived in Otago, and founded
Dunedin, the enterprising citizens may well be proud of
"Our own romantic town."
It is stated that Captain Cargill used to send back and pay the return
passage of any emigrants other than Scotch who were landed; and another
amusing story is told on this subject apropos of a Chinaman:--
The municipality sent out tenders for some building, and a John MacIver
sent in one amongst others. His was accepted, and subsequently he turned
out to be a "John Chinaman." When asked why he had assumed that name,
he answered, "That no other than a Scotchman or with a Mac before his
name had a chance of succeeding here." This story reminds me that nearly
all the market-gardening in New Zealand is done by Chinamen. They lay
out their gardens on the principle of having no square plots or straight
lines, but all in angles and corners; and on a barren acre of land they
succeed, where no one else would, in producing an abundant supply of
vegetables.
_Sunday, October 19th. Dunedin._--A cold, windy Sunday, with frequent
storms of hail and sleet. We went to church at St. Paul's, meeting the
Salvation Army, which has taken as great a hold on the people out here as
it has at home. All the principal churches are of course Presbyterian;
the one with the beautiful tapering spire is called the New Church, and
another the old Knox Church.
We took the cable car to the top of the hill, to have luncheon with Mr.
Twopenny, editor of the _Otago Daily Times_, and one of the principal
organizers of the Melbourne Exhibition; meeting there Mr. Justice
Williams, Judge of the Supreme Court.
In the afternoon we drove with the mayor through the Botanical Gardens.
They are very prettily laid out, with some bits of native bush left to
grow in their own wild luxuriance among the cultivated bushes and shrubs,
intertwined with wild clematis, which here has a flower as large and waxy
as stephanotis. We also drove along the Port Chalmers Road, cut out on
the side of a hill overlooking the valley.
Returning to tea at the mayor's house, we met there the master of the
High School, Mr. Wilson, a very clever man. In talking of immigration
they said that no member dares to support or advocate it on any platform.
The feeling and outcry against it is so strong throughout the country
among the working class, who fear the importation of hands will lower the
high rate of wages at present existing. A farm labourer earns easily from
seven to eight shillings a day, and carpenters, bricklayers, and masons
command ten shillings a day; and this is with a comparatively cheap rate
of living.
_Monday, October 20th._--We left Dunedin by the eight o'clock train for
Invercargill, having the same saloon attached, and Mr. Weldon kindly went
part of the way with us, returning on a luggage train.
The same bleak, windy weather as yesterday, made the tussock country
look, if possible, drearier than ever.
We reached Invercargill at 5 p.m., and went for a walk about the
town. The dusty streets stretching out in their dreary length to the
flat country beyond, looked peculiarly bare and uninviting. And this
impression was increased by the blinds of all the houses being halfway
down, for the funeral of the late surveyor-general. The trees do not
seem to have had time to grow up, and there is a crude, half-finished
look about Invercargill. I must say in a less degree we noticed the same
at Dunedin. Both these towns have the sparse, frugal look of the people
who inhabit them. The Albion Hotel, where we stayed, was in the High
Street, and very commercial. C. went in the evening with some members of
the municipality to a volunteer drill. He looked in afterwards at the
Athenæum Club opposite, which is well-arranged and organized, and is open
for the use of ladies also.
_Tuesday, October 21st._--We left Invercargill by the 6.45 train in the
morning, to make an expedition to Lake Wakitipu (pronounced Wakitip). The
train was very slow, though there are many stations along the line, where
they only stop if there are passengers, a whole list in Bradshaw being
"starred" for this purpose. Passing through one of the many sheep runs, a
flock had got loose on the line, and we ran over an old ewe in spite of
all precautions.
There was a notice put up at one of the stations, about the rabbit pest,
which is nearly as bad here as in Australia, giving warning that after
the 1st of November, poisoning by laying down phosphorescent corn was
to begin. This method of poisoning was invented by a man who was being
ruined by the devastation of rabbits on his property. The discovery
came too late to save him, and he went bankrupt; but now he devotes all
his time to trying to save others by disseminating the knowledge of his
discovery.
Ranges of hills covered with snow, now succeeded to the flat plains.
We were quite near the snow line, and I noticed how the hills, without
sloping, descended sheer down on to the plain. We arrived at Kingston
at the head of Lake Wakitipu, and found the steamer, the _Mountaineer_,
moored at the wharf. There ensued a very long waiting, whilst the cargo
was leisurely put on board.
It was two hours after the train had come in, before the last whistle
sounded, to be quadrupled by the echo from the surrounding mountains; and
we were off.
We had the most heavenly afternoon for our trip up the lake, with no
wind, and the perfect stillness allowing the outline of the mountains to
be faithfully mirrored and reflected back on the calm surface of the lake.
To the right there is a wild range of rocky terraces known as the
"Devil's Staircase," and here the water was of an ordinary blue, but on
the other, and under the lee of the dark mountains, it was of transparent
marine green, very beautiful to behold.
Lake Wakitipu is sixty miles long, varying from three to four miles in
width. The surface of the lake is 1000 feet above the level of the sea,
but its bed is 300 feet below. The water is intensely cold, and any
one drowned in this lake never comes to the surface again. The body is
believed to become frozen before it reaches the bottom, so great is the
depth and so icy the temperature.
The great peculiarity and remarkable beauty of Lake Wakitipu lies in the
precipitous mountains that descend sheer into the lake in one straight
line, varying from 3000 to 9000 feet. There are no undulating slopes or
breaks in the range; no peeps of the country outside the mountains, which
rise up as a fixed and impassable barrier, shutting us in whichever side
we turn--making us unconsciously long for a glimpse of the outer world.
The captain of the _Mountaineer_ told me that it is believed (from
soundings) that the formation of the bed of the lake assumes the same
shape as the mountains above; therefore, if we could look down into their
icy depths, we should see the phenomenon of mountains turned upside down.
It struck me as being a very pretty but fantastic theory.
We had been too early in the year for the other parts of the islands, but
at Wakitipu we had come exactly at the right time, for the mountains were
yet covered with snow. They looked so beautiful with it lying in smooth
unbroken surfaces on the summits, and dwindling down to lie along the
ridges, or in isolated patches below the snow line. Underneath that again
there lay a moraine of stones and rocks, or a bit of bush flourishing in
a ravine. The lights and shadows had full play on the rounded arms and
jutting peaks of the mountains that afternoon, and sitting on the deck in
the warm sun, we thoroughly enjoyed the two hours' trip to Queenstown.
[Illustration: Lake Wakitipu, New Zealand.]
We entered the natural harbour, and passed at the entrance the wooden
triangle, with the black line, showing the height of the flood some years
ago, which nearly destroyed the township. It was caused by a freshet,
from the sudden melting of the snow after several days of unusual heat.
The cragged top of Ben Lomond, wreathed with snow, and that splendid
range of "The Remarkables," form a wonderfully grand background to the
humble roofs of the charming little village of Queenstown.
There is a sleepy look about the few stragglers on the wharf, waiting for
the steamer to come in, and a primitive air about the little hotel just
opposite, with a stout landlady standing on the steps, to see what guests
will arrive.
The peninsula with the tall eucalyptus trees jutting out into the lake is
called "the park." You go over a bridge and through a turnstile to reach
it, and find a disused cannon at the end, pointed down the lake. It is
all very quiet and dull, and sounds uninteresting, but we thought it so
pretty, and that Queenstown was one of the few places we had come to that
we should care to linger in.
There are beautiful walks and drives by the side of the lake, up the
mountains, or through the pass that leads to the village of Arrowtown.
Queenstown is the centre of the Otago gold diggings, mining operations
being carried on in some of the mountains round about, and many is the
story we heard of a sudden leap into wealth by the accidental find of
gold. These "finds" are often rendered valueless by the want of water
for working them, but the "claim" which the owner takes out, by paying a
small sum to the government, entitles him to the first use of the water
nearest the digging.
Trout have been introduced, and they are annually hatching 160,000 of
salmon ova to be turned into the lake, in the hope that it may become
a large industry, as with a freezing apparatus they could be sent home
to England. A law was passed that trout were only to be caught with a
line, but now they have become so large, weighing from eighteen to twenty
pounds, that government is to be petitioned to legalize the already
surreptitiously used net.
_Wednesday, October 22nd._--We spent a quiet morning, one of the first
we have had for a long time, with nothing particular to do but wander
along the shore of the lake. The weather looked unpromising and rough for
the proposed trip to the head of the lake later on, but it changes here
with the wind, which may be said to shift round twenty or thirty times a
day--and by the afternoon the lake was calm and the weather bright.
The steamer was late in being signalled, and when she came alongside the
jetty there was a flock of sheep to be disembarked, refusing in a body
to move, till one was dragged off as a "decoy," when they all followed
"_like_ a flock of sheep." Altogether we were two hours late in starting.
The captain, the engineer, and the steward, greeted us again as old
friends, and we felt quite at home on the _Mountaineer_.
We had not realized till we got away from Queenstown what a splendid
range "the Remarkables" were, with their serrated peaks and depressed
edges filled with snow, running in ridges of downwards or crossway lines.
The mountains were grander and gloomier, rising to a greater height here
than in the lower part of the lake.
The flattened top of the Necklace Mountain forms the landmark where the
steamer turns the White Point into the upper end of the lake. We had
to go six miles out of our course to land a shepherd on a small pier,
throwing his dog overboard to swim after him. The steamer stops wherever
it is wanted, and a fire is lighted as a signal on the shore, or two in
cases of sickness.
We were very glad of this divergence, because our course took us straight
_across_ the lake, in full view of all the glory and beauty of that grand
collection of snow domes which shut in the lake at the head.
Monarch above all rose Mount Earnslaw, 9000 feet above the sea level,
with his long saddle of pure white snow leading up on the one side to the
arrête, and the small conical peak of the summit. The long descent on the
other side is formed of innumerable peaks, and curved round in the shape
of a circular basin.
Inside this there is a glacier of many thousand acres in extent, from
under a glassy portal in whose side issues a stream called the Rees. In
the summer, after the snow has melted away, the glacier takes a beautiful
lake-green colour, such as those who have seen it affirm is found nowhere
else.
Mr. Green gives a most interesting account, in "The High Alps of New
Zealand," of his ascent of Mount Earnslaw, but he only accomplished 6000
feet, and was surpassed last summer by Mr. Walker of Dunedin, who made
a further ascent of 300 feet. It is wonderful to think of those eternal
glaciers and iron-bound peaks, untouched by the foot of man, for ever
destined to be beyond his range.
On either side of us were the Humboldt Range and the picturesque Cosmos,
with their sides terraced into steps which are supposed to show the
different levels of the glacier lake.
We had not seen a single fine sunset whilst in New Zealand, and if we
were destined to see but one, it was well for us that it came on this
particular evening. We beheld a sky mottled at first with beautiful opal
tints, and then changing to a pearly grey, streaked with pale blue,
succeeded in its turn by crimson clouds, that left their rosy traces
on the hills, for we had a real Alpine "after-glow" reflected on the
dazzling purity of the snow.
The ruddy tinge still lingered on a few high peaks, long after the others
were in shade, and we watched regretfully the last warm colouring fade
away, and leave them lifeless, cold, and grey, ghastly in the gathering
gloom.
We sat on deck muffled in shawls, till Orion and the Southern Cross came
up, and the cold wind drove us down into the stuffy little cabin, with
its swinging oil lamp.
We arrived at Kinloch in total darkness about 9 p.m. We could only see
the wooden pier by the light of the lantern held by an old man (we found
it was full of holes the next morning), and we stumbled after him up a
rough pathway. The _Mountaineer_ sent forth a shrill shriek on the still
night air, that echoed from the mountains round, and in the darkness we
heard the steamer ploughing her way across the lake to Garlochie, her
night's resting-place. Two girls came out of a hut at the old man's call,
and led us up to a deserted cottage on the hill. One brought a shovelful
of coals, and lighted the fire, while another found some ends of candle.
The house smelt musty and damp, as if it had long been uninhabited. I
passed a very disturbed night, thinking I heard sounds outside, and the
situation was strange and lonely, for we were in a deserted house, in an
isolated spot, and with the front door standing wide open all night.
We were called at half-past five for the steamer, which we heard giving
warning whistles, and saw coming across from Garlochie. We had a
delicious morning for our return journey down the lake, seeing One Tree
and Pidgeon Islands, which we had missed in the darkness last night, and
Mount Earnslaw for the last time, looking superb in the clear morning air.
Twenty-five miles away lie the beautiful Sounds of the West Coast, but
the road between the lake and the coast is as yet unpierced. I have seen
pictures and heard descriptions of Milford and Dusky Sounds, and they
must be very beautiful, but at present the Union S.S. Company only run
one excursion steamer there during the year.
We stayed an hour at Queenstown, and reached Kingston at 1 p.m. The train
left half an hour afterwards, and we arrived at Invercargill at eight
that evening to find a gale blowing that augured badly for the morrow.
Lake Wakitipu will soon become the favourite resort for the business
men of Dunedin, and we thought it as beautiful as Lucerne or any of
the Italian lakes; not so _pretty_ perhaps, on account of the want of
vegetation, but grander and more sublime in the outline of the mountains.
We were leaving New Zealand the next day, and with the greatest regret.
The homely geniality and hospitality that we had met with during our
sojourn in both islands had made the few weeks spent there full of
pleasant recollections. Afterwards, when our travels were all over and we
were home once more, I found we always looked back to New Zealand as the
happiest part of our travels; so thoroughly had we enjoyed our expedition
to the Hot Lakes and geysers in the North Island, and to Lake Wakitipu in
the South.