STRANGE SYSTEM OF WIRELESS TELEGRAPHY.

Dominion, Volume 1, Issue 232, 24 June 1908, Page 9

STRANGE SYSTEM OF WIRELESS TELEGRAPHY.

A LINK WITH THE OUTSIDE WORLD. • (DY TELEGIUHI.— OPECIAJj correspondent). • .V.. . CStrlstohurolif Juno 23. : A contributor to tho Christchurch "Press." who lias beon visiting tho remote back blocks of Southland, describes in to-day's issue what ho terms the .strangest system of wireless tolegraphy'New Zealand Ho says: It is a simple process. It rs merely a water-raco, an, rivor fashioned by tho hands of-mcn, sweeping along for twentysix miles, now tinkling with li«htsomo sparklo in tho merry sunlight, no\v>whisp6ring dark? ly, stealthily, mysteriously in tho .depths of the forest shades. Six men stationed at in-' tervals.along tho route guard tho course of tho race, and maintain it in good repair. The ond of each section is -marked, by a grating which detains all. tho flotsam; and jetsam borne thus far along. The writor paused for a moment-at. 0110 such, barrier'as tho. race : keeper with dexterous casts cleared away the'refuse. The water hissed and roared in resentment at its free passage thus being challenged, and 'one saw rather than heard the secret of tho primitivo Every scrap of paper, every fragment of wood, overything that might bo used foi- scrawling a.messago upon, was carefully scrutinised and thrown away with an air of lingering doubt, for this was the popular method of 'communication by the b'ush people along the lino of tho nower water's march with the out- - side world. A chip hurriedly inscribed with a stub 'of burnt stick before now has related somo pitiful little bush tragedy, and been the means of a doctor's posting hot-foot into tho wilds. A dingy, ill-spelled missivo crammed into a jam-tin has brought stores to a backwoods camp whose occupants wore unwilling to loso two days from labour to mako knowii their wants in person. The racemen themselves send their weekly reports to headquarters enclosed,in bottles. Everyone along the route .is' looking for messages at tho gratings, and theso aro speeded ?on their journey as a sacred duty. Death has few terrors to the toil-hardened, old 'hatters" in these desolate places. , Ihoy dread only'dying alone/their passing ,a secret perhaps for months, if not foroVcr. \\lien my time comes," . said one. "I only ask' for strength to crawl to the race. ; Ivo had my message roady years. And so it is with all the. bush folk. Tho race is the one livinf link that binds them to tho outside worlcL