KAURI GIANTS.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 267, 10 November 1937, Page 20

KAURI GIANTS.

CLIMBING FOR GUM.

SPECTACULAR ASCENTS. LITTLE-FOLLOWED CALLING. (Special to "Star.") GT. BARRIER ISLAND, Monday. "Ale, I climb at 15. Now 45—still climb. Damn sight safer up tree. Many men killed on ground; none up tree!" It was Nathan who spoke—Nathan, New Zealand champion kauri climber of many years' standing, his brown Maori face creased by an car-to-ear grin, hie eyeballs showing white as his gaze followed his work mate, "Moses" Price, on a nimble journey, hand over hand, foot after foot, up the scarred trunk of a towering kauri in the bush behind Whangaparapara, Great Barrier Island. The two-inch steel spikes in the toes of Price's boots and his 14in hand irons cut with sharp, regular thuds into bark and green wood whilo Nathan stayed below to grin his denial of suggested potential danger in the life work of his mate and himself—two men who climb the giant kauri for its yellow gum. Hia Only Trad*. Those who follow this calling to-day are few. In the days when many a kauri reared its massive trunk and stately head from virgin forest men eagerly sought the tresaures which it held, but so low has fallen the value of the gum that now only'a handfnl seek a living in its quest. The strenuous and dangerous work brings them a bare pittance.

They are men like Nathan, who smilingly explain* that it is the only trade he knows, and so he must either follow it or starve. Stand with him on the ground, while Price goes aloft, and let him show you how the oozinpr gum is left to fill cavities formed by taking chip* from the bark. A* many as 40 or 50 of these cuts are made in the trunks of the larger trees, and after a few months enough gum hne collected to make its removal worth while. Then the tree is climbed ngnin, the gum collected and carted to the store for sorting and grading and shipment to city merchants.

Like Fly on Wall. As simple as all that? But no rope or safety device is used on the long climb up the kauri's trunk often to a height of a hundred feet or more. The climber's boots are fitted with toe spikes—he carries his footholds on his feet instead of cutting steps into the tree. In his hands he grips iron*, the head of each fashioned like the point of a fireman's axe, and the handle shaped to prevent his fingers from being crushed against the tree trunk—and there are his handholds. Like a fly on a wall he wallu, hand over hand, step after step, up and np until he reaches a branch where he can safely sit and adjust his ropes and "bo'sun's chair" for the descent, during which he makea his cute or collects the gum. And If on the upward journey you miss a hold—? "Well" grins Nathan, "if you strike a very htird piece of bark, have 'nother shot. Plenty time before you reach bottom." But he has work to do. He picks np his irons and mounts the trunk with lithe, rhythmic movements, high up to where It's "damn sight safer" than on the ground.