Right under the snowy glacier above us were wide, yawning apertures, arched at the top, and framed, as it were, with ice, in the form of rude portals, through which the white waters of the river burst in a continuous stream. These were ice caves. Climbing over the rough boulders, and then descending into a rocky channel, where the water mounted over our knees, we entered the largest of these singular structures, when a wonderful sight met the gaze. We found ourselves in a cave of some 200 feet in circumference, whose sides of black volcanic rock were sheeted with ice, and festooned with icicles, all grandly and marvellously designed. At the further end from where we entered was a wide, cavernous opening, so dark that the waters of the river, as they burst out of it in a foaming, eddying stream down the centre of the cave in which we stood, looked doubly white, in comparison with the black void out of which they came. We were now right under the enormous glacier that covered the summit of the mountain, and the roof of the cave was formed of a mass of frozen snow, which had been fashioned by some singular law of Nature into oval-shaped depressions of about two feet in height,and a foot and a half broad, all of one uniform size, and so beautifully, and so mathematically precise in outline, as to resemble the quaint designs of a Moorish temple; while, from all the central points to which the edges of these singular designs converged, a long single icicle hung down several inches in diameter at its base, perfectly round and smooth and clear, tapering off towards its end with a point as sharp as a needle. High up on our left, in the walls of the cave, were two apertures like the slanting windows of a dungeon, through which the light streamed, giving a soft, mysterious halo to the whole scene, which looked weird and indescribably curious. We had brought candles with us, and lighting them, we pressed forward to explore the deep cavern beyond, but to do so we had to climb over sharp, slippery rocks, which were covered with a coating of ice, as if they had been glazed with glass, while the white waters streaming beneath us fell into a deep, eddying pool. We managed, after some difficulty, to cross the stream in the second cave, and to penetrate a considerable distance along the treacherous rocks into the very centre, as it were, of the great mountain; but, just as we were winding along a kind of subterranean passage, which looked like a short cut into eternity, our lights went out, owing to the water falling from above, and, as we could hear nothing but rushing waters ahead, we, with some difficulty, beat a retreat into the first cave, which looked like a fairy palace in comparison with the dark cavern we had just left. These caves were at an altitude of 7000 feet above the level of the sea,and we were now at the true source of the remarkable river. Wherever the water poured over the rocks it left a white deposit, and when we tasted it, it produced a marked astringent feeling upon the tongue, leaving a strong taste of alum, sulphur, and iron, with all of which ingredients, especially the two former, it appeared to be strongly impregnated.[51]
It is a remarkable and interesting geographical fact that the waters which form the source of the Waikato River burst from the sides of Ruapehu, within a short distance of the Whangaehu, and at almost the same altitude. Both streams run almost parallel to each other for a long distance from their source, and then, as they reach the desert, they gradually diverge and divide the two great watersheds of this portion of the country, the Waikato flowing to the north into Lake Taupo, and the Whangaehu to join the sea in the south. There is, I believe, no place in the world where two great rivers may be seen rising at an altitude of over 7000 feet in the sides of a glacier-clad mountain, and rolling for miles, side by side, down its rugged slopes, the waters of the one of alabaster whiteness, and the waters of the other as pure and as limpid as crystal, and each forming the dividing waters of an area of country of nearly 100 miles in length.
It had taken us nine hours to reach the ice caves, and as it was now late in the day we began to descend with all haste, in order, if possible, to reach the point where we had left our horses before nightfall.
As the sun went down the wind blew with a freezing blast, and as we descended precipice after precipice, and ridge after ridge, and the tints of evening crept gradually over the dismal sides of the mountains, our course appeared long beyond measure. When we got near to the immense mass of lava we had beheld in wonder in the morning, the shades of night overtook us, and it was with great difficulty we could pick our way over the rough boulders of the dark, weird gorge, which now looked like Dante's Inferno with the fires put out. We again struck the waters of the Whangaehu, and shining as they did like a white streak in the darkness, we were enabled to follow them up until we came to our camp.
We soon had our tent erected under the lee of a cluster of scrub, which served to protect us from the fury of the wind, which now swept in strong blasts across the scoria plains. Our camping-place was as near as possible in the centre of the desert, and at a point which indicated an elevation of 3000 feet above the level of the sea. It might, in fact, be considered as the highest point of the great central table-land, for it was here that the watershed divided, and flowed on the one hand to the north, and on the other to the south, as previously described. A drink of tea and a biscuit formed our only meal, and then we lay down to pass one of the roughest and most uncomfortable nights we had ever experienced.About midnight a great storm of wind swept over the plains, and dark clouds gathered over the heavens, and the rain continued to descend in torrents throughout the night. Fortunately for us, the few straggling bushes around served to break the force of the blast, otherwise everything would have been blown away.
FOOTNOTES:[51]Near to this point, on the summit of the mountain, there is a lake formed by an extinct crater, filled by subterranean springs, and it is likely that the Whangaehu may in some way be connected with it. It is, however, clear that there must, of necessity, be strong subterranean springs in this portion of the mountain, to account for the large volume of water forming the source of this river, as likewise extensive deposits of alum, of some form or another, to cause the complete discoloration of the waters by that mineral. I believe that this singular river will be found to possess great medicinal properties for the cure of rheumatic affections and cutaneous disorders.
[51]Near to this point, on the summit of the mountain, there is a lake formed by an extinct crater, filled by subterranean springs, and it is likely that the Whangaehu may in some way be connected with it. It is, however, clear that there must, of necessity, be strong subterranean springs in this portion of the mountain, to account for the large volume of water forming the source of this river, as likewise extensive deposits of alum, of some form or another, to cause the complete discoloration of the waters by that mineral. I believe that this singular river will be found to possess great medicinal properties for the cure of rheumatic affections and cutaneous disorders.
[51]Near to this point, on the summit of the mountain, there is a lake formed by an extinct crater, filled by subterranean springs, and it is likely that the Whangaehu may in some way be connected with it. It is, however, clear that there must, of necessity, be strong subterranean springs in this portion of the mountain, to account for the large volume of water forming the source of this river, as likewise extensive deposits of alum, of some form or another, to cause the complete discoloration of the waters by that mineral. I believe that this singular river will be found to possess great medicinal properties for the cure of rheumatic affections and cutaneous disorders.
KARIOI.
Our commissariat gives out—The Murimotu Plains—The settlement—The homestead—The welcome—Society at Karioi—The natives—The Napier Mail.
Our commissariat gives out—The Murimotu Plains—The settlement—The homestead—The welcome—Society at Karioi—The natives—The Napier Mail.
Whenmorning broke over our camp on the Onetapu Desert the rain poured down without intermission, the flood waters of the great mountain swept over the plains in every direction, and the whole country, obscured for the most part by heavy mists, looked indescribably desolate. To remain camped where we were was simply to court starvation. We were now nearly 100 miles from where we had started, and, while our horses were so weak as to be hardly able to walk, through exposure and want of proper food, our own commissariat was reduced to its lowest. Yet, up to this point, we had not accomplished one-half of our intended journey. It is true we had ascended the great mountains, and had seen their wonders, but there were still dense forests and unknown regions to be traversed. We had been told before setting out from Tapuwaeharuru that a sheep-station known as Karioi could be reached by travelling in the direction of Whanganui. This was out of our course, but there was no alternative but to make for it, in order to recruit our horses and replenish our commissariat. We therefore looked towards this place as a kind of Land of Promise, flowing with the proverbial milk and honey.
Once clear of the sterile desert, we took a southerly course along the Whangaehu River, until we reached the magnificent tract of open country known as the Murimotu Plains. This wide district, which forms, as it were, the southern slope of the great central table-land, stretches in the west to the borders of the forest country which extends to the valley of the Whanganui, while to the eastward it is bounded by the lower hills which branch out in the form of extensive ridges from the southern end of the Kaimanawa Mountains. These plains, which resemble in general features those to the north of the desert forming the Rangipo plateau, are covered with a network of streams and rivers, and, for the most part, with a luxuriant growth of native grasses, the ridges and lower hills which dot them towards the east being carpeted with low fern. We travelled across the plains principally by compass bearing, and we had to cross many swollen streams in our course, the waters of one pouring in the form of a cascade into a deep circular basin. Beyond this point we again struck the Whangaehu, which had now become a wide stream, but its waters were still quite white. After a journey of nine hours, during which time the rain and wind never ceased, we sighted a "three-rail fence," which we joyously hailed as the first sign of civilization we had seen for some time.
The fence proved to be the horse-paddock of the station, and following it along,we soon came to our destination. We found the variouswharesand rustic huts composing the settlement of Karioi scattered promiscuously about the banks of the Tokiahuru River, a tributary of the Whangaehu, which wound through the station in its course to the south. The site of the settlement was most delightfully chosen, and the views from every part of it were most attractive.
Upon arrival at the homestead all hands came to greet us, although nobody knew who we were, nor where we had come from; nor were we asked whether we were hungry. With true bush etiquette, that was taken as a matter of course, and we were soon invited to partake of what was to us a magnificent repast.
We found the good people of Karioi true cosmopolites, ready to enter into conversation and to furnish all the news in their power in exchange for what we could tell them of the country we had passed through. Strange as it may appear, in this small settlement of whites and natives, which formed the last link in the chain of European settlement stretching from the East Coast into this portion of the country, our pleasant party at Karioi was composed of representatives of many nations. A Mr. Rees, who had come up from Whanganui, was a native of Australia, and had served in the armed constabulary at Parihaka; Mr. Newman, our host, hailed from the South of England; one of the "hands" was a New Zealander, another an Austrian, a third came from the Alpine districts of the Tyrol, and another from the Land o' Cakes, while the native race was here represented by severalhapusof one of the principal Whanganui tribes. To listen to the spirited description given by Mr. Rees of the Parihaka campaign,and to his delineation of Te Whiti[52]and other notable chiefs, to participate in the varied conversation upon the wonders of the surrounding country, to chat with the Tyrolese in his native tongue, and to feel that a great vacuum had been filled in our insides, was so great a change to what we had recently experienced, that we now seemed to be partaking of the pleasures of the varied society and seductive luxuries of a first-class antipodean caravansary, where hospitality was boundless and good-fellowship the order of the day.
In the evening we visited the nativekainga, and spent some time with the Maoris in thewharepuni. There were about twenty natives present, men, women, and children, and in the centre of the primitive apartment blazed a huge fire, which threw out a terrific heat, and rendered the place almost unbearable. The natives were mostly short of stature, with hard features, and I remarked that they spoke with a much harsher accent than those further to the north, and that they clipped many of their words in a remarkable way. When Turner inquired for an explanation of this habit, they stated that their great ancestor, Ngatoroirangi, when he came over in theArawacanoe was engaged in baling out that craft during a storm, and that whilst so doing he caught a severe cold, which caused him to speak in a sharp, halting kind of way, which has been imitated ever since by many of the Whanganui tribes,who claim descent from that celebrated chief, and who has been before alluded to in a previous chapter as the first explorer of the country.
On the second evening after our arrival at Karioi, and when all hands were assembled in the homelywharewatching the big pots boiling for supper, in fact, when everything lookedcouleur de rose, a horseman rode up bespattered with mud from head to foot, bringing a packet of papers and a handful of letters. This was the Napier mail, and we hailed it with delight, as it was the first tidings of civilization we had obtained since we left Tapuwaeharuru, over twenty-four days past. We anxiously scanned the telegrams, to see what had arisen with regard to the Mahuki difficulty, when we learned that the native minister was about to leave Alexandra to travel by way of the Mokau River to Taranaki, in company with a body-guard of armed natives, under the chief Hone Te Wetere, that Mahuki's tribe was going to oppose his journey through that portion of the country, and that a gallows had been erected at Te Kumi, to hang the native minister and all other whites that might be caught across theaukatiline. This news, which was about the most exciting item of intelligence the papers contained, was discussed with much gusto. The mere idea of war in the King Country—Alexandra in flames and a minister hanged—seemed to act like magic upon the heroic hearts of the cosmopolitan community at Karioi. This new phase of the native difficulty Turner and myself treated with apparent indifference, but in reality,coming as it did at that moment, we secretly deemed it of no small concern, as we had determined to leave Karioi on the following day, re-enter the King Country at its southern end, and come out somehow across the northern frontier. In the suggestive words of the schoolboy, we never "let on;" but, as a matter of fact, from the time we left Karioi until we crossed theaukatiline at Alexandra, five weeks afterwards, this significant item of intelligence was ourbête noire, as during our progress northward we could never tell from day to day what difficulties we might run into with the natives by reason of the Hursthouse-Mahuki episode.
FOOTNOTES:[52]Te Whiti and Tohu, the Maori prophets, were captured in 1882, at the instance of the Government, by the armed constabulary at the native settlement of Parihaka, for inciting their followers to commit acts of lawlessness against the European settlers.
[52]Te Whiti and Tohu, the Maori prophets, were captured in 1882, at the instance of the Government, by the armed constabulary at the native settlement of Parihaka, for inciting their followers to commit acts of lawlessness against the European settlers.
[52]Te Whiti and Tohu, the Maori prophets, were captured in 1882, at the instance of the Government, by the armed constabulary at the native settlement of Parihaka, for inciting their followers to commit acts of lawlessness against the European settlers.
FOREST COUNTRY.
The start from Karioi—On the track—Te Wheu maps the country—The primeval solitude—Terangakaika Forest—The flora—Difficulties of travel—The lakes—Birds—Pakihi—Mangawhero River—Gigantic vines—Fallen trees—Dead forest giants—Mangatotara and Mangatuku Rivers—A "Slough of Despond"—Dismal Swamp.
The start from Karioi—On the track—Te Wheu maps the country—The primeval solitude—Terangakaika Forest—The flora—Difficulties of travel—The lakes—Birds—Pakihi—Mangawhero River—Gigantic vines—Fallen trees—Dead forest giants—Mangatotara and Mangatuku Rivers—A "Slough of Despond"—Dismal Swamp.
Wewere invited to stay as long as we liked at Karioi, but as we were anxious, as the weather was breaking, to push forward as soon as possible, we had to content ourselves with two days' rest, and on the morning of the 24th of April we again set out. Having examined all the principal natural features of the country for over 200 miles northward of this point, I determined to traverse the plains to the southward of Ruapehu, and then pass through the great forest to the westward of that mountain, in order to reach the Manganui-a-te-Ao River near to its junction with the Whanganui, and afterwards proceed northward through the King Country, by the best route we could find.
We had heard from the Maoris that there was an unfrequented native track, leading somewhere in the direction of the Manganui-a-te-Ao River, through the region we were going to explore, but it was at all times difficult to travel, and still more difficult to find, unless by those well acquainted with the country. We were told that itled over high mountains and steep hills, and across rivers and boggy creeks innumerable. With these difficulties ahead, we endeavoured to secure the services of a native guide to accompany us as far as Ruakaka, the Maori settlement on the Manganui-a-te-Ao, but no one among the many natives we treated with was willing to make the journey; all excusing themselves upon the plea that they did not like to undertake the responsibility of introducing Europeans into the country. At last, after considerable parleying, a native, named Te Wheu, agreed to put us on to the track for a consideration, so we set out without delay. As it was clear that we should have to traverse the great forest on foot, and have much difficult travelling, we abandoned our sumpter-horse at Karioi, together with our gun, which, up to this time, had been of little service, and reducing our camp equipage to the lowest, packed our horses with the tent and blankets, and carried just sufficient provisions to last us for three days, by which time we hoped to reach Ruakaka.
We picked up our guide Te Wheu at the Whakahikainga, and took a westerly course across the Murimotu Plains, which extended, in the form of a well-grassed tract of country, as far as the southern base of Ruapehu, and beyond which a thick, and apparently impenetrable, forest rose, in the form of a barrier of varied and beautiful vegetation. Near to the southern end of the great mountain we passed the Maori settlement of Ohinepu, situated on a slope, with low mounds on its western side, on which were several tombs.
We crossed the Waitaki Creek, flowing southerly from the mountain, and near to a nativekainga, situated on a rock-bound hill, beneath which the Mangaehu stream flowed like a moat.
From this point, after passing a swamp, we soon hit the so-called track, which would have been impossible to find without native assistance, hidden as the entrance to it was away in the winding of the dense forest. Here the colossal trees rose up on every side, a thick undergrowth of the most varied shrubs hedged us in wherever we turned, and coiling roots of trees, and black, swampy mud, with here and there a blazed tree, was the only indication of our course. To ride through this was impossible, and we therefore had to dismount and lead our horses.
Te Wheu accompanied us to the summit of a densely-wooded hill, which rose 500 feet above the plain we had recently left. Before leaving us, however, we induced him to sketch out roughly, on the ground, the lay of the country we were about to traverse, when he gave us the names and directions of the principal rivers and creeks we should have to cross. He then told us that as he was known at Ruakaka we might mention his name to the natives, but that he could not guarantee our safety, as the Maoris of that part were true Hauhaus, and objected topakehasgoing into their territory.
As soon as Te Wheu had disappeared on his homeward track we bent on our way through the greatprimeval solitude. We had been so much out in the open country hitherto, that the scenery of the forest seemed at first like a pleasant change, but this idea was completely altered after a journey through it of seventy miles.
The Terangakaika Forest, which extends from the western slope of Ruapehu, forms part of the wide expanse of bush country which stretches into the valley of the Whanganui, and thence, westerly, to Taranaki. It grows to within 1000 feet or so of the snow-line of the great mountain, and covers nearly the whole of its western side, as well as the wide plateau near this portion of its base. When we had got well on our way, we found this enormous wilderness spreading itself out over a perfect network of broken, rugged ranges, which in many places appeared to have been hurled about by the terrific throes of an earthquake. The soil was everywhere of the richest description, and many of the colossal trees averaged from thirty to forty feet in circumference at the base, and towered above us to a height of considerably over 100 feet, forming a grand canopy of foliage, above and beyond which nothing could be seen but the blue of the sky and the golden rays of sunlight as they lit up the bright-green tints of the splendid vegetation.
Among the largest trees was thetowai, which here attained to a larger growth than any we had previously seen, its enormous branches supporting a canopy of small, shining, green leaves, giving it a very beautiful appearance. Next to thetowaiin size was therimu, its pendulous branches making it everywhere a conspicuous and attractive feature, but it is worthy of remark that where on the volcanic soil, formedby the decomposition of rocks of that kind, thetowaiattained to its largest size, we found that therimugrew to larger proportions on the marly soil we afterwards met with as we approached the valley of the Whanganui. It was also in the latter locality that theratalikewise attained to its most colossal proportions; many of these parasitical giants clasping the enormousrimusin a death-like struggle for existence. Besides these grand representatives of the vegetable world, which formed by far the greater part of the forest growth, we also found many noble specimens of thehinau, thetawa, themiro, andmatai, the berries of the three former trees being scattered over many parts of our track in enormous quantities. In fact, almost all the principal trees peculiar to the forests of the North Island here flourished in wonderful luxuriance, together with an extensive variety of shrubs and ferns, while mosses, lichens, and trailing vines clothed the tall trees to the topmost branches in gay festoons of vegetation, which presented the brightest and most variegated hues.
With all these marvellous creations of the vegetable world around us, we soon, however, found that travelling through the great forest wilderness was both fatiguing and difficult. There was not 100 yards of level ground, and the native track, what little there was of it, led over steep precipitous ridges, from 200 to 400 feet in height, which were constantly ascending and descending in a way which rendered our progress not only slow, but difficult and tedious. The steep ascents, up which we had to drag our animals at every turn, were as slippery as glass with the dank humidity of the surrounding vegetation, and were encumberedwith the gnarled roots of trees in every direction, while the descents were in many places so precipitous that it was impossible for us to lead our horses without the risk of them rolling over on us, so we were compelled to let them go their own way down, when they would, owing to the slippery nature of the soil, slide down on their haunches and never stop until they were pulled up by a boggy creek below. These creeks, filled with thick, black mud, impeded our progress at every descent, and struck terror into our animals, so that we would often have to flog them across, when their struggles to climb the slippery ascents on the opposite side fatigued them fearfully. It was not as if we had only to encounter these difficulties now and again, but they presented themselves in the most aggravated forms at every few hundred yards of our journey, from morning until night, and for day after day. Thus, amid solitude and shade, we pursued our onward way, now plunging into the deep and gloomy chasms of the mountains, and anon rising to the opposite ascent, till the distant openings in the forest, restoring the welcome sunlight, revealed mountain and valley yet to be traversed.
Our first day's journey brought us to two lakes, which Te Wheu told us we would find somewhere along our track, and which would serve as our first camping-place. A little before dusk we came suddenly out of the forest into a small, circular, open flat, fringed withtoetoe, and covered with a luxuriant growth of native grass. On our left, a grassy ridge rose in a semicircle,and all around the open space the trees rose one above the other in the most attractive way, while a variety of shrubs dispersed about in the most picturesque order, made the place appear like a perfect garden. Right in the very centre of the naturalparterrewas Rangitauaiti, a beautiful lake of a complete circular form, and the water of which, looking like a polished mirror, was of the deepest blue. Beyond this flat, the native name of which was Rangitanua, and separated only by a low ridge crowned with a luxuriant growth of vegetation, was another open space, in the centre of which was Rangitauanui, an oval-shaped lake larger than the former, but in which the water was of the same limpid blue. The trees on the further side rose in a dense forest growth, and as they came close down to the water, they were reflected in the depths below with grand and beautiful effect. In fact, the whole surroundings of these lakes appeared so attractive after our long journey through the forest, that we seemed to have got into a quiet corner of paradise.
We remained here the following day, as much to rest ourselves as our horses, and we enjoyed the quiet romance of the place immensely. The primeval region was a perfect elysium for birds of all kinds, and at daylight the forest was alive with their warblings, and with the soft note of thetuicame the harsh screech of thekaka; flocks of pigeons circled about the tree-tops, and gaily-plumed parrots winged in a rapid flight through the air. One of the latter birds, which we found dead, had a green body and a light green breast, with a dark crimson patch on the head, and a small patch under the eye of the same colour. This was the first bird of thekind I had seen in New Zealand, and it resembled very much one of the green mountain-parrots of Australia.
When we left our camp at Rangitanua it was in the hope that we should be able to reach the Manganui-a-te-Ao by nightfall, but in this calculation we were greatly out. We passed round the western end of Lake Rangitauanui and entered a boggy, densely-wooded country, where the trees, especially therimu, were larger and more gigantic in proportions than any we had yet seen. The dense forest here literally rained with moisture, and, as we had to lead our horses, we were at places compelled to plunge through swamps where the big roots of trees threatened to break our legs and those of our struggling animals. We crossed a branch of the Mangawhero, and towards sundown came to a small open flat called Pakihi, surrounded entirely by the forest, and where we found excellent feed for our horses. It had taken us seven hours of hard travelling to reach this spot, and during that time we had to cross no less than ten boggy creeks, besides other streams. The Mangawhero River ran round the western side of this small oasis, thetowai-trees forming a conspicuous feature along the banks of the stream. We camped at Pakihi for the night, the stillness of the place being only broken now and again by the shrill note of the whistling duck.
We struck camp at Pakihi early on the following day, but had some difficulty in crossing the Mangawhero, which we found to be a broad, rapid, boulder-strewn stream. The banks were very steep and slippery, and when we had our horses down on one sidewe had great difficulty in getting them up the other.
As we got again into the thick of the forest the vegetation became denser, and therimu-trees, seeming to increase in size, shot up for over a hundred feet as straight as gun-barrels. Where some of these giants of the forest had fallen across our track, we had often to cut a way round them for our horses, through the thick shrub and tangled vines, the latter of which impeded our progress at every turn, by tripping us up, and winding round the legs and necks of our animals like treacherous snares. The enormousrata-vines had been very troublesome up to this point, but now we had to do battle not only against them, but against the supple-jacks, which we found growing everywhere in a perfect network of snakelike coils on the soft, marly soil of the country we were now in. It was nothing to have a supple-jack round the neck and arata-vine round the legs at the same time, while our horses would often get so entangled that they would refuse to move until we had cut them a clear passage out of their difficulties.
In many instances, owing to surrounding obstacles, there was no alternative but to make them leap over the fallen trees in our way, and when not able to do this, the animals would jump on to them and leap down like dogs. Indeed, the tricks that they had to go through to get over these and other impediments rendered them almost as clever as circus-horses.
Another frequent feature we noticed was that where the great trees had apparently been lying for some time,the seeds of other trees had fallen upon them, and, germinating into life, had sent their roots down into the very heart of these decaying vegetable monsters. In this way it was no uncommon sight to see three or four different species of large trees living and flourishing upon the dead trunks of these forest giants.
We crossed the Mangatotara River twice, and after passing through a very rough and broken portion of the great wilderness, we fell in with another river, called the Mangatuku, and which we had to cross three times in its winding course. Both of these streams appeared to drain a large area of country, and so dense was the vegetation along their banks that it was only here and there that a ray of sunlight shot through the thick canopy of green upon them.
During this portion of our journey we came across a complete network of tracks made by herds of wild cattle, and which led us about to all points of the compass, until we found it impossible to make out in what direction we should shape our course. We climbed a tree on the summit of a high ridge, but we could see nothing but the snowy summit of Ruapehu in the distance, while all around us, in every direction, was an apparently endless expanse of forest. From this point the country began to fall rapidly, and it was evident that we were descending into the valley of the Whanganui. After nine hours of incessant travelling, from the time we left our camp in the morning, we had crossed no less than thirty boggy creeks, besides other streams, and now that dusk had overtaken us, we found it impossible to proceed any further. We were now in the midst of a swampy portion of the forest, which seemed like a veritable "Slough of Despond," and which, judging from the way the ground had been rooted up in every direction, appeared to be a kind of wild-pig elysium. Throughout the whole distance we had come, thecountry had been grubbed up by these animals, many of which we saw of great size, and apparently of true wild-boar ferocity.
We were compelled to pitch camp in this uninviting spot, our horses faring badly, as there was little or no food for them beyond what they could get from the trees and shrubs. This was one of the most dreary places in which we had camped during our journey. The night was dark and wet, the colossal trees rose like spectres around us, the enormous vines that twisted and twirled about them like coils of vipers, were covered with grey moss, which hung in dank festoons often over two feet in length, like enormous spider-webs, and as the rain poured down from the branches above, the whole place looked as if it had been saturated with moisture for centuries. We cut down branches of thenikau, and made a tolerably good bed for ourselves after smoothing down the ground where the pigs had been rooting; and we named the place "Dismal Swamp" on account of the swampy nature of the country and the truly dismal character of the whole surroundings. This camp was situated at an altitude of 1700 feet above the level of the sea, or just 560 feet lower than our camp at the lakes.
RUAKAKA.
Thewharangiplant—Enormous ravines—Ruakaka—Reception by the Hauhaus—The chief Pareoterangi—The parley—Hinepareoterangi—A repast—Rapid fall of country—The Manganui-a-te-Ao—Shooting the rapids—The natives—Religion—Hauhauism—Te Kooti's lament—A Hauhau hymn.
Thewharangiplant—Enormous ravines—Ruakaka—Reception by the Hauhaus—The chief Pareoterangi—The parley—Hinepareoterangi—A repast—Rapid fall of country—The Manganui-a-te-Ao—Shooting the rapids—The natives—Religion—Hauhauism—Te Kooti's lament—A Hauhau hymn.
Westruck camp at Dismal Swamp at daybreak, and travelled on for many miles through the same character of country we had been traversing for the past five days. Before leaving us, at the entrance to the forest, Te Wheu had warned us not to allow our horses to eat a certain shrub, called by the natives "wharangi," which we found growing for many miles along our course, with broad, oval-shaped, light-green leaves. This plant, when eaten by horses or cattle, is said to produce stupefaction, followed by convulsions and death, the only known cure being instant bleeding from the ears. Our own animals were now ready to eat anything, and made desperate efforts to devour the foliage of the trees, and, as we went along, we had great difficulty in keeping them away from this poisonous shrub, which they would devour greedily. During this journey the boggy creeks and fallen trees became more troublesome than before, and the hills steeper and more difficult to climb. We passed along one ridge, with enormous ravines below, some of which were of circular shape, and in appearance not unlike extinctcraters, while deep down in their depths, all around their sides, and up to their very topmost ridges, nothing was to be seen but a luxuriant growth of the most varied and beautiful vegetation. Here, too, the geological character of the country changed, the trachytic rocks giving place to a sandstone formation, covered with a stratum of thick, marly earth, which was so slippery in places that we could hardly manage to get along.
During the greater part of the morning the rain had been pouring down in torrents, and what with the swollen condition of the creeks, the slippery nature of the soil, and the starved condition of our horses, our prospects of ever reaching Ruakaka seemed to be hopeless. At last, about two o'clock in the afternoon, we hailed with delight a break in the forest, and we came suddenly into a hilly region, where the tall fern grew higher than our horses' heads. After travelling a considerable distance through this country, we mounted to the top of a high hill, when we beheld, 200 feet beneath us, a fine, open valley, sunk like a pit, as it were, in the heart of a mountainous region, where enormous forests stretched away as far as the eye could reach on every side. Right down the centre of the valley, as far as we could see, we could trace the winding course of the Manganui-a-te-Ao, marked by precipitous cliffs of grey rock, which rose perpendicularly from the waters of the river to a height of 300 feet, while above these, again, on the further side of the stream,were terraces of rounded hills, backed by conical mountains, which mounted, one above the other, to a height of 3000 or 4000 feet, covered from base to summits with a thick mantle of luxuriant vegetation. On the side where we had emerged from the forest the valley was bounded by round-topped, fern-clad hills and flat, terrace-like formations that descended, in the form of gigantic steps, into the plain below, where thewharesand cultivations of the natives, stretching for miles along the course of the stream, appeared dotted about in the most picturesque way. Taken altogether, the whole place had a singularly wild appearance as we gazed upon it, and now that we could see everything from our point of vantage without being seen, we wondered what kind of a welcome we should meet with from the natives.
We led our horses down the steep, slippery track into the valley, and as we were now seen by some of the Maoris, there were loud shouts thatpakehashad arrived, and the natives came out of thewharesand awaited our approach in front of thewharepuni. We could see at a glance that the words of Te Wheu were correct, and that the natives, so far as we could discern by outward signs, were veritable Hauhaus, alike in dress and bearing, while both men and women had a singularly wild and even savage appearance when compared with all other tribes I had seen in different parts of the country. It was likewise clear that they did not welcome us at first with any demonstrations of cordiality, and upon Turner inquiring for the chief, they replied that he was away at a wild-pig hunt, and that we must wait till he came.The natives then squatted around us, and scanned us narrowly, while we looked on with an air of apparent indifference.
In the meanwhile a messenger had been despatched for the chief, whose name, we now learned, was Te Pareoterangi, and after a short delay he appeared before us, with half a dozen wild-looking natives, carrying a double-barrelled gun over his shoulder. He was a man below medium height, but of singularly massive build, broad-chested and broad-shouldered, with a well-formed head, and singularly well-moulded features. Indeed, his heavily-knit frame, intelligent air, and almost oriental cast of countenance made him stand out in marked contrast to the other natives, who were, for the most part, unlike the generality of their race, remarkable for their diminutive stature and ungainly appearance.
When Te Pareoterangi came up, he squatted down with a sullen air, without going through any form of salutation, and then, after a pause, asked us what we had come for, and upon Turner telling him that he had brought thepakeha, who was travelling for pleasure, a titter ran round the circle, for, if we did not look it, we felt half-starved, we were drenched to the skin, and covered from head to foot with mud, and the chief, evidently realizing all the unpleasant features of our position, naively remarked, "How can thepakehatravel for pleasure through such a forest as you have come?" At which an old tattooed savage observed, "Their horses are only rats; how did they get here? Thesepakehashave singular ways." This was said with a sinister smile from the old man, and in anything but a complimentary tone.Many other questions were put to us, and the parleying kept on, by fits and starts, for a good half-hour, during which time the natives displayed no token of friendship, the only manifestations we received in this respect being from the dogs and pigs, the latter even going so far as to scratch their backs against our legs.
RUAKAKA
RUAKAKA.
At last an old woman, who had been watching the proceedings keenly, and whose appearance reminded me of one of the witches in "Macbeth," suddenly rose, and stepping with an excited air into the middle of the circle, waved her bare right arm round her head, and shouted at the top of her voice, "Haeremai! Haeremai! Haeremai!"[53]And then turning to the natives, in an equally excited way, said, "Thepakehashave been following up the rivers of great names, and have come to our homes; they are hungry, and we must give them food." The words of this weird dame, whom we afterwards found was the chieftainess Hinepareoterangi, and mother of the chief of thehapu, acted like magic upon the natives, who at once took charge of our horses, while the women hastened to prepare a meal, old Hinepareoterangi opening the feast by presenting us with some of the finest apples I had ever tasted.[54]In a short time we were invited into thewharepuni,and a big tin dish of potatoes and pork was set before us, the old chieftainess remarking, "You are now in a 'Tongariro country,' and must not look for such delicacies as bread." As we had only had two meals for the past two days, and those of the most visionary description, we found this repast most acceptable. The pork, which had been preserved by being rendered down in its own fat, was delicious, while the potatoes were of the finest kind.
Owing to the heavy rain and the flooded state of the Manganui-a-te-Ao, we were compelled to wait at Ruakaka for two days, during which time we visited many parts of the district. I found that the altitude of Ruakaka was 800 feet above the level of the sea, and it is worthy of remark, as showing the rapid fall of the country in this direction, that, in order to reach this place from the great central table-land where we had at first entered the forest, we had descended by the circuitous way we had come no less than 1600 feet in about forty miles.
These figures will give some idea of the swift current of the Manganui-a-te-Ao, which, taking its rise near the north-western side of Ruapehu, cuts its way through a mountainous country in a deep, rock-bound channel, and receives the waters of innumerable tributaries along its entire course.The volume of water poured down by this impetuous stream, especially in the rainy season, and during the melting of the snows of Ruapehu, is something prodigious, while I believe the rapidity of its current is unequalled by any other river in New Zealand. Along its entire length its rocky bed is strewn with large boulders and masses of rock of colossal size, while its precipitous cliffs, crowned with towering, forest-clad mountains, impart to it a singularly grand and wild appearance. Besides its rapid course, it is remarkable for its windings and dangerous rapids. We found that the river was known by three native names—viz. Manganui-a-te-Ao, or "great river of light;" Te Waitahupara, and Te Wairoahakamanamana-a-Rongowaitahanui, or "the river of ever-dancing waters and steep, echoing cliffs"—while the Whanganui, into which it fell, was not only known by the latter name, but likewise as Te Wainui-a-Tarawera, or the "great waters of Tarawera."
The two rivers form the principal means of communication for the natives of Ruakaka with the outer world. From the Manganui-a-te-Ao they travel in canoes to the Whanganui, and thence southward to the coast. The distance is accomplished in a few days, owing to the rapid current, but the journey up stream often takes over a month. The natives are experienced "canoemen," as they must be in order to navigate their frail canoes over the many rapids and winding turns that mark the whole course of the river, as well as that of the Whanganui. At most of the rapids the water shoots over enormous boulders and between narrow channels, and the canoes, guided by poles, are carried over the treacherous places with wonderful dexterity.As may well be imagined, the frail craft often gets upset, but the natives, who are expert swimmers, right them again with little difficulty.
During our stay at Ruakaka we were guests of Pareoterangi and his family, which consisted of the old chieftainess, Hinepareoterangi, or the "woman of the heavenly crest," as her name implied; Ani, wife of Pareoterangi, a tall, gaunt woman with blunt features, and who wore her hair in short, thick ringlets about her head; Te Ahi, her daughter; and Toma, the tattooed savage who had called our horses "rats." We took up our quarters in thewharepuniwith these people, but the dismal, and, I may say, dirty, tenement was constantly filled with the natives, who kept continually dropping in to chat or to have a look at us. In this way we had a good opportunity of studying the manners and customs of the Hauhaus of Ruakaka, and, all things considered, they seemed to be following about the same mode of life as they must have done before the arrival of Cook, their manners still presenting that mixture of rude freedom and simplicity suggestive of the infancy of society, before art had taught men to restrain the sentiments of their nature, or to disguise the original features of their character. Shut up in the midst of their forest wilderness, and having little or no connection with the outer world, they seemed to know nothing or to care for nothing beyond their own day-to-day existence. We learned that since time immemorial this wild and secluded valley had been a place of settlement for differenthapusof the tribes inhabiting the region of the Whanganui River,and that those at present dwelling there were the Ngatihau, Ngatiapa, Ngatimaringi, Ngatitamakana, Ngatiatamira, Ngatiruakopiri, Ngatiikewaia, and Ngatitara. We were informed that their common ancestor was Uenuku, and that their forefathers came from Hawaiki in theTainui,Arawa, andAoteacanoes. In former times the whole valley of the Manganui-a-te-Ao was fortified with formidablepas, so that it was impossible for an enemy to get up the river. During the troubled times of the great war with the Europeans Ruakaka was always considered as a safe meeting-place for the Hauhau tribes of this part of the country, since thepakehasdid not know of its existence; and even if they had, as the natives reasonably remarked, they would never have attempted to penetrate into its fastnesses with any prospect of returning alive.
I was anxious to test the religious principles of our Hauhau friends, just to see whether a ray of Christianity was to be found in this wild valley, and during an evening sitting, when thewharepuniwas heated like a furnace, and all the motley crowd were assembled together, I got Turner to sound the old tattooed man, who had been a noted fighting-chief during the war, upon the present and upon the hereafter. This grim, antiquated warrior would sit and listen for hours to everything that was said, but he would never venture a remark. Now and again a diabolically sinister smile would pass over his blue-lined countenance, and he would mutter a word with a puff of smoke, but beyond this he was silent. When, however, the question as to his religious scruples was put straight to him, he spoke out frankly, and said, with an air of singularnaïveté,"At one time I thought there were two saints in the island—Tawhiao and Te Whiti—and I waited along time to see if they would be taken up to heaven in a chariot of fire, but I have waited so long that I am tired, and now I think that there are no saints in heaven or on earth." Old Hinepareoterangi, who was always a good talker, and displayed at all times a facetious spirit, laughed heartily at the admission of the old man, and then, looking us full in the face, she exclaimed in her wild, weird way, "We believe in nothing here, and get fat on pork and potatoes." This brought down roars of laughter from the assembled Hauhaus, and we dropped the religious question.
It was, in fact, very clear that these natives were as deeply wrapped in the darkness of heathenism as were their forefathers centuries ago, and beyond a superstitious species of Hauhauism, no germ of religious teaching appeared to have found its way into their breasts. They were, however, always ready to sing Hauhau chants to the glorification of Te Whiti and Te Kooti, who appeared to be the presiding deities of these wild tribes. At night, when the wind and rain raged without, and the river rushed through its rock-bound channel with a noise like thunder, both men and women would chant these wild refrains in droning, melancholy notes, but in perfect harmony, the airs in most cases being exceedingly pretty and touching.
The two following chants were sung to us by Te Pareoterangi and other natives in chorus, and were taken down in Maori verbatim by Turner. I am indebted for their spirited translation to the able pen of Mr. C.O. Davis.
TE KOOTI'S LAMENT.
I stood alone awhile, then moving roundI heard of Taranaki's doings. The rumoursReached me here, and then I raisedMy hand to Tamarura,[55]that deityAbove. Ah me! 'twas on the thirdOf March that suffering came,For then, alas! Waerangahika[56]fell;And I was shipped on board a vessel,And borne along upon the ocean.We steer for Waikawa,[57]and then we bearAway to Ahuriri,[58]to thee, McLean.[59]Ah, now I'm seated onSt. Kilda's[60]deck,And looking back to gaze upon the sceneMy tears like water freely flow; nowWhanganui's[61]shore is seen, now Whangaroa,[62]Where mountain waves are raising up their crestsNear Wharekauri.[63]O, my people,Rest ye at home; arise and look around,nd northward look. The lightsome cloudsAre lingering in the sky, and wafted hitherDay by day, yes, from my distant home,Turanga, from which I now am separated,Separated now from those I love.O, my people! respect the queen's authority,That we may prosper even to the end.Suffice the former things thrown in our pathAs obstacles. Uphold the governor's lawsTo mitigate the deeds of Rura, who broughtUpon us all our troubles.
HAUHAU HYMN.
Let us arise, O people!—the whole of us arise.Lo, Tohu and Te Whiti now have reachedThe pits of darkness—the house of Tangaroa,[64]And gateway of the spirit-world of Miru,[65]Where men are bound all seasons of the year.The offspring, too, of David they would bind.The bright and morning star, Peace, at the endWill come, and in the times of DavidFeelings of vindictiveness will cease.'Tis not from thee; it is from MosesAnd the Prophets—from Jesus ChristAnd His Apostles, that lines of demarcationWere set up to shield thee from man's wrath.The termination comes by thee, O Tohu!And while it wears a pleasing aspect,I am lighted into day.