SIXTY MILES THROUGH CENTRAL OTAGO.
Quarter-past four and a frosty mornig, as ihe old-time watchman hath it. Frosty and dark and windless, the. leafless branches of the trees Aye passed under standing out clear-cut and frail against the blazing, sparkling stars. For the stars over this great wilderness—Central Otago — have a trick of flashing and changing colour as they do no Avhere else in New Zealand.
Tramp, tramp, doAvn the long avenue we went; before the inevitable coAvboyipushinglithe'smallhand-expi'e'ss containing my modest baggage — a portmanteau and dressing-bag — behind, Mr Lerent, Alice Lerent and myself, marching abreast. Ugh! How the cold nipped one's nose and toes and anything else getatable! Fortunately there was not much to nip about me. Wrapped literally from head to foot in a huge fur cloak belonging to Mrs Lerent, the collar coming up about my hat rim, my arms pinioned helplessly to my sides, I felt like some monster cocoon that had wakened before its time and set out to vieAv the Avorld forthwith. The coldhad as much chance of getting in as I apiieared to have of ever getting out. Clink-a-clank, tramp, tramp, the iron-shod heels of the men rang on the frozen road. Soon the Avhite gate —an indistinct blurr in the darkness —was passed, and Aye were out on the highway, standing like dismal shadoAvy statues of patience, awaiting the advent of the coach which, as per ustial, was half an hour late. Alice and I crossed the road and investigated a small half-circle of stones about two feet high which seemed to have been built especially for occasions like the present. We sat down in it and tried to keep out the cold by cuddling as closely together as possible. There was nothing to be seen about us but universal bkekness and the daub of deeper shadow which indicated the express, so Aye lifted our heads and surveyed the glories of the heavens, exchanging a few remarks to the castanettian accompaniment of chattering teeth. 'Just-t-tlook at the Zodi-i-acal Light,' I managed to say, making a feeble effort to indicate the direction Avith a movement of the shoulder, my hands being inaccessible. Alice rubbed her nose ruefully in an ineffectual attempt to restore the circulation, and turned her head in the direction I had pointed out. 'Where? That thing? That's Avhere the sun is rising. Zodiacal Light!' Her tone Avas contemptuous and her temper short — the effect of being turned out of snug eider doAvn at 3 a.m. to see my unworthy self fairly started on my" homeAvard journey. 'Sun rising, indeed,''l returned with vast superiority. 'A funny kind of sun. He won't be up for three good hours yet; slioavs his good sense, I think.'
We were both getting warm. 'Hush; I can hear the coach.' We both turned an ear towards the ground. 'It's only father dancing to keep warm' Avas Alice's decision after a prolonged breath - holding during Avhich a few 'tap-a-taps' had been borne from the remote distance. 'No, no. Listen.' 'The coach at last, thank goodness. Soon it loomed up, tall, square, and shadowy, the horses—five—seeming absurdly small by contrast.. My farewells Avere quickly said. I managed after some struggling to free my arms and get them ready for action. 'Cold morning,' cried the driver, Mr James Sutherland, othenvise. 'Genial Jim.' 'Box-seat?' 'Yes; I've kept it for you. Put your foot on the axle. There's the step; right now? Tuck this rug Avell round you. Morning, sir, Tck-tck'—to the horses—and we Avere off. .'Enjoyed your holiday?' 'Oh, yes, thanks, very much.' 'You didn't stay long, did you?' 'Three Aveeks.' Genial Jim's remarks not meeting with much encouragement he was silent. I looked round—a rather useless performance considering the hour. At our back rose the roof of the coach, felt, rather than seen, the little railing round the top serving to keep the passengers' lugg-agewithin bounds, though at every motion of the vehicle I quite expected my portmanteau (which had been thrown up very hastily) to return like bread cast upon the waters. Far doAvn at our feet the shadowy horses made a darker blot upon the road noAv showing grayly in the increasing light. In the heavens I recognised some old friends —Vega, just setting upon the northern horizon; over in the westMars, like a ruddy shield on the Lion's breast; almost directly, before us Scorpio—good old Scorpio. I have alAvays loved him. For an hour or two Aye bowled along at a good even pace, rumbling over hollow "bridges, crashing through ice-covered streamlets, bumping over an occasional stone —up hill and doAvn dale. The light Avas a good deal stronger nOAV. Gaunt masses of grey rock, scraggy telegraph posts and stubbly matagouri bushes stood up againstthe rapid yellowing skyline. A little longer and Aye could see the rabbits scuttling across- the road, Avhich iioav, alas! showed all too plainly, for, like the tussock-covered wastes around, it was Avhite with hoar-frost and made me feel as though cold water Avere trickling remorselessly doAvn my luckless spine. Still Aye went on through the frostbound wilderness. Far, far away on the left the snoAvy mountain peaks stood up white against the daffodil sky, and, unutterable joy! was it possible? A speck of pink light shone on the long- mountain range before us. 'Look!' I cried jubilantly, 'sunlight! sunlight! sunlight!' 'Humph!' said James, misnamed (I began to think) The Genial,'' Look at Mt. St. Bathan's behind us.' He jerked his Avhip scornfully. The great peak stood up white and ghostly. 'The sun won't rise for half an hour yet. That pink spot on the "Rock and Pillar" is always there. Stays all night, I think.' He got out his pipe. 'Mind if I smoke?' 'No; I like tobacco.' 'That's .right. Never marry a man that doesn't smoke. Bad tempered lot. Your father smokes, doesn't he? Ever see him in a temper? No? I have.' Mr James Sutherland smoked reflectively. There was an amused twinkle in his eye. 'When?' I asked, indignantly. 'Oh, at Hyde once. He Avas driving some sheep across the railway line and the dog wouldn't work properly. He was audible. But here we are at Wedderburn. Beady for breakfast? •-' I was. Quite ready. We drew up before a loav backblocky hotel Avhich, together with a few bare-looking houses and one or tAvo dissipated trees, seemed to have
lost its way in "the wilderness and sat down in despair of ever getting out again. . Some half-dozen red-eyed passengers tumbled sleepily from the back depths of the coach and went inside. As I came dowp from my high perch I glanced up. Mt. St.Bathan's Avas gloAving — a glorious rose that warmed one only to look at it. But with the prospect of breakfast so near I had.no time ..to-waste in. sentiment, but went after the other passengers, and was soon Occupied iirthe contemplation of a grilled steak—a thing not so romantic perhaps, but a great deal more satisfactory in my then frozen condition. When I had finished I warmed my toes at the feeble lire. When the horses had been changed I went out again. Joy! The sun had risen and now blazed cheerfully in a cloudless sky. I cast off my fur cloak in a twinkling and felt like a free human being once more. I climbed up to my perch with all the grace at'my command, conscious that I was followed by the envious looks of my felloAV-passengers, which were as lioney to my soul, for the boxseat of Craig and Co., like the liverwing of the chicken, is only for the favoured of the earth.
Once more we set off, merrily this time. The morning was glorious, fifteen minutes of the hot sun having effectually banished the rime which in the early infant hours had covered all things, including our spirits. The air was warm and dewy, making us feel like beings of another sphereMartians, I Avas about to say, but stoped in time, an. awful vision of those beings (?), a la Mr Wells, coming before my horror-struck mind. Spinning along towards Naseby, conversation became more brisk, and Genial Jim, after the most approved style of the coach driver of all time, proceeded to enliven matters by the recital of several hair-raising bushranging stories, but somehow they seemed out of place when applied to these unromantic tussocky Avastes, and fell flat accordingly. 'Did they ever tell you the story about Mr Lerent (bit of a hard case, Mr Lerent) and the jackeroo? Oh, well, the jackeroo wasn't very bright and Mr Lerent wasn't very fond of him. One day they were driving together down l^ecksley Hill. The horse bolted, the trap was upset and both Mr Lerent and the cadet Avere throAvn out. Mr Lerent Avrote to the young fellow's father and told him of the accident. 'Fortunately,' he said, 'your son fell on his head, so he wasn't hurt.' Hard on the jackeroo.
'Rather! It's to be hoped the proud papa didn't see the point? of the remark.'
By this time-Aye had reached Naseby, the principal tOAvn of Central Otago. It lies in a deep holloAV, the Avhoie country round about being halfsmothered in big 'Spaniards.' _ A mining town, too, as is very evident at first glance, the Avide expanse of churned up clay, the black, shiny pipes and the preponderance of hotels telling their oaati tales. Our horses Avere changed again here and another batch of luckless passengers stowed away, one being reduced to the top of the coach, Avhere he lay in a melancholy heap amongst the luggage, AA'hilst two more young men came on to the box-seat beside me, one of whom occupied the time betAveen sniffing audibly and asking questions of an exceedingly intellectual order. Par example:
'Hum—ha—drivah—like coach-driv-ing? Must be a beastly graft, isn't it,? What time—ah—do you leave St. Bathan's? Quarter to four? Bai Jove, now! And do you haye to leave at the same time in rainy weathah?' 'Dear me, no,' says the genial one, eA'idently shocked at such a barbarous notion. 'Leave at the same time in rainy weather? Didn't you loioav that the Hon. Jock McKenzie. brought in a Bill last session to the effect that 1 needn't start till ten Avhen it rains? Your education must have been neglected.' Presently avc came to a hill, up Avhich the loaded coach crawled laboriously. Genial Jim turned round and asked the man avlio reclined amongst the luggage behind us 'if he wouldn't like to get down and stretch his legs?' But he received a strong glare in reply and the severe ansAver, 'Not any for me, thank you.' Once more AA*e rattled along at a o-ood even pace. The road seemed to o-o on and on forever. We were travelling down hill though, so its interminable length didn't trouble us much. Far away on the right, studded with little clumps of trees and flooded with tlie morning sunshine, lay the Ada Valley. Directly before stretched the Kock' and Pillar, and the Kakanui Mountains, the latter .curving round on the left until they Vanished behind us. We Avere all getting tired and sleepy by this time, and the sun was beginning to Avax more hot than warm, so conversation flagged. Soon I could have stood up and shouted. Kyeburn was in sight. Genial Jim put his hand across his eyes. 'What song do you think T should like to sing hoav?' he asked. I crossly suggested Rock Me to S "Put Me in My Little Bed." ' 'Hear, hear,' came a weary chorus. At last Kyeburn lay behind us. 'Only four miles uoav.' 'Four miles? It might as well be four hundred'—a feeble voice from amongst the luggage. But the four miles passed very quickly, in spite of our weariness, and soon Kokonga (Cocoanut in the local d j a l ec t)—the terminus of the Otago Central Railway—lay before our enraptured vision. Only a bare, sandy, grassless expanse, sprinkled with a feAv depressingly neAv houses, but to us weary Avayfarers the paradise of our despairing dreams. An engine was puffing up and dovArn at the railway station as the coach dreAV. up. I clambered doAvn from my perch (not much "race this time, but rather a movement suggestive of unoiled machinery), Avaved a farewell hand to our genial driver, stumbled somehow along the road, tumbled into the first railway carriage I came to and promptly fell asleep. . ' I left my luggage to look after itself, having found during a lengthy experience of such matters that the more you look after it the more likely is it to disappear. I was right. When I reached my destination and my rejoicing friends had "found and wakened me—no easy matter—l found that my trunk and dressing bag had already been put on the platform together with another box which looked as if it contained something good, but which I was under the painftil necessity of informing the guard did not belong to me. 'No,' I said, 'go search this tram and find the passenger who watcheth his luggage as a hen her chicks. Unto that one, doth it belong.' And lie went. _;._ _ J.L.B.
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Bibliographic details
Auckland Star, Volume XXIX, Issue 177, 29 July 1898, Page 6
Word Count
2,190SIXTY MILES THROUGH CENTRAL OTAGO. Auckland Star, Volume XXIX, Issue 177, 29 July 1898, Page 6
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