THE FIORD COUNTRY.

Ashburton Guardian, Volume XVII, Issue 4193, 17 May 1897, Page 2

THE FIORD COUNTRY.

By Mr R. Henry

Resolution and Other Islands.

We live on the north side of Pigeon r ■aland, where it is only about half a mi c wide ; but it is high and timbered, so that we are well sheltered from the south. We can nearly always hear the grumbling of the swell in 'he caves out there, which rises into thuuder in the rough sou'weaters, for they have a clear run in from the ocean. We n'-ver want to go boating then, but someiimes walk across through our clearing to hi*ve a look at the big waves, and when we come back our little bo*t harbi.urd look bountifully quiet ami peaceful. Of course, we also have mad north winds, bat a high promontoty runs across half a mile north of us, and prevents them getting up any sea. There is a rocky boat passage at the east end of- Pigeon Island, but it is in a corner, and a swell makes it dangerous for our boat, so we general'y go out by Parrot Island, and steer southward for the mainland, past several islands and some head-( lands of Resolution, past the sharp end of Anchor Island, and out into the stream of the Sound. Then it is only about a mile across until we are passing between Long Island and Indian Island, and another mile with more islands brings us to Cascade Cove, our favorite hunting ground. On the left of | the entrance is a grand cascade tor a sign board, with the name written up. Itwis Captain Cook that) named it. A mile to the west is Pickersgill Harbour, where he anchored his ship the Resolution in 1773. (Jascade Cove is narrow, with islands at its entrauce, and runß nearly Btraight southwest for one and a half mile. Our camping place is at the head on the bank of the creek about nine nvles from home. There are no hia;h mountains between that and the sea, but'tney start up immediately on the east side of Cascade, three or four thousand feet, and get higher until about half way to Minipouri, where some of them retain a little snow all through the summer.

The islands, and all except the top?, are one dead monotony of bush, which is just as tiring as too much of anything else, and I would much prefer some grassy places, or even sandy beaches, which are tqually scarce heie. It is either rocks and buah, stones and bush, or all bush, and when you get into it the very sky is shut out, and it is like a world of ferns and leaves. There is just one thingl—it is never cold or windy in there, but then it ia never dry, and the timber is too dear to get out, so I think it would not matter much if it slipped into the sea, beauty and all, and let a few tussocks grow up instead. A great part of it is quite seep enough to sip in if it only had a smooth bottom ; and rough and all as it is, fine strips of it often do go down and disappear, bub the slides are soon grown over again. Anyone wishing to retain a love for the bush should never go a journey or camp a night in it.

We pitch a big tent a few yards from the beach, in the bush of course, to be out of the

tide, and having pub up bunks of bags stretched on poles and a rough chimney, we are ready for a hunt. It is nearly sure to be raining in the mcnir.g, but that is nothing here, so we get breakfast- as usual, for it often c ears up afterwards. If it does not, we find it better to cut wood or sotne-

thing until afternoon, and then get on light oilskins and leggings, often leaving off our jackets, for with the climbing it is often too warm, but never cold in the bush. To cirry the birds, we have light wooden knapsacks divided into three compartments just big enough for a kakapo to crawl into, so that he cannot turn round or get knocked about. When I take up the dog'a muzzle with bell attached and ring it, he comes and jumps aboufc with delight, as if he liked it, but it is only the hunting he likes. Then taking our billhook* we start

up hill among the ferns, always up hill, for

the steeper it is and the denser the undergrowth the better the kakapoa like it, and we always want kakapoa and kiwi, but not roaa for there are plen'y on Resolution. Where there are no creepers we may get along at the rate of a mile an hour, but with a<i[jple-jicks half that is good progress, while the dog eau go ten times as fatb. And as he can scent a bird a log waj up a gully, and wa hear the bell goiog up with a merry jingle, we have to be lively to keep within hearing of it, and perhaps when we are quite out of breat'.i we hear a bark and hwe to

hurry up. Then is the time for the supplejacks and lawyers to have their revenge, and they generally have it in various ways ; and

then is about the only time that a little bad language can be used with great propriety, and it is generally used, let a man be ever so so good a soul. However, we get there in time, apparently a very long time, and find the dog rolling about a poor old kakapo with its feathers ail disordered, or it may be in a hole, or up a tree, or under a rock where we cannot get Jt. It may be a roa that will come out and run away in the forus to give us another tally-ho and a scramble up and $°wn, for we must get it whether we want it or nor, or the dog won't come away. We often get a pair of roas cut of one hole if the dog cannot get into jt, but never a pair of kakapos, because they are seldom within half a mile of each other. The roaa may have their last young one with them nearly as big as themselves, but slightly darker in color, and once I got four out of one hole. If we get three or four kakapos and a couple of grey kiwi

we are quite satisfied with our day's work. We have got nine or ten kakapos, and several times got nothing at aIL when we went up the same spur a second time, for it seems the scent is so strong that a dog can smell them a long way off', and it is useless to go over the ground a second time.