OVERLAND FROM TARANAKI TO WELLINGTON.

Evening Post, Volume VII, Issue 129, 8 July 1871, Page 2

OVERLAND FROM TARANAKI TO WELLINGTON.

. (BY A CORRESPONDENT.) I had long been anxious to see the country lying between New Plymouth and Wanganui—a country celebrated far and wide for unrivalled soil and climate, and rich in natural beautios, and for ever memorable in our annals as the theatre in which some of the most sensational acts of that extraordinary melo-drama entitled "The War in New Zealand," were exhibited to the gaze of an astonished world. For years this territory was, as everyone knows, impassable for Europeans, and few except those who have either served in the Imperial or Colonial forces, or have been engaged in negotiations with the natives, know much about it, so, finding myself iv Auckland, and in some danger of becoming webb-footed in that peculiarly moist climate whilst waiting for a steamer to take me frouth, I determined to embrace the opportunity of a passage by the Go-abead to Taranaki, and thence on by Shepard's four-horse coach, which traverses the terra incognita 1 have spoken of twice a week, weather and the Fates permitting. I embarked at Onehunga on a Wednesday afternoon, hoping to be landed betimes next morning, but, alas ! soon discoverer! that thfi craft 1 was afloat in was sadh misnamed; "Go Astern" she should have been called, for a more ridiculous attempt at steaming I never witnessed. Ir. smooth water and with light winds shi orawled slowly, and when it blew a-head she could not go at all; however, for pitch ing and rolling about, she is pefectly unrivalled. Her movements resembled those of a washing.-tub afloat on a rough stream. mor3 than anything else I know of. A somewhat mysterious robbery had taken place on board a few days ago—neither tht property nor the thief had been discovered ; and a general gloom pervaded the vessel in consequence. Those who assembled in the -cabin seemed to me like a family in which a recent death had occurred. However, it is only just to say that the internal ar rangements of the vessel are excellent, captain, officers, and stewards are peculiarly civil and obliging, and the food and sleeping accommodation are quite equal to thosf of any steamer on the coast. Twentyfour hours elapsed before I was landed on the beach at New Plymouth, and it was with feelings of profound satisfaction thai I stood there arid watched the .Go-ahead staggering off on her retrograde trip t< Waitara. Having secured quarters for the night at the White Hart, I rnadeenquireiee in reference to the coach, which I found started next morning at 5 o'clock. 1 also learned from the driver that it would be advisable to provide myself with a Man ket, as next night the coach would stop at a Maori pah, where the " beds" were not above suspicion, and the food of the most meagre description. I found the White Hart nothing to boast of in the way of ac commodation, but the proprietor civil anrl obliging, and anxious to make his guests ascomfortable as possible. During the evening a gentleman staying at the hotel, wh< had business at Wanganui, made up hir mind to accompany me in the coach instead •if waiting for a steamer. At 4 o'clock on Friday morning we were called, and twenty minutes afterwards my travelling companion and I met in the room where breakfast was Jaid for us. The prospect out of doors wascertainly not cheering. It was dark a>pitch, and raining from the south-west Breakfast was despatched, bills paid, and tickets secured by five, at whioh hour th» customary shout of "All aboard!" froit without warned us that the coaoh wa ready, and we sallied forth. Beside thi Iriver a Maori sat on the box, and anothet was on horseback, closely following. We go; inside, making ourselves as snug as possible ..and away we went " into the blinding darkness, into the howling storm," knowing '•'only that the coach was going along a hare road at a good pace. But this did not las' ong; four or five miles brought us t< Omata, where we stopped for a few minute!? and a man came out of a public house 'with ■i lantern, and spoke to the driver. The metalled road extended no further, and'-th> coach at once plunged into mud and rub up to the axles, jolting and pitching aftei the manner of the Go-ahead. When day light came we found ourselves progressinj along the old military road, or what remainsof it, up hill and down as fast as practi cable, the Maori "guard," seated on tht box, and his confrere on horseback in clost attendance. For several hours I was unde' apprehension that the coach would eithei capsize or breakdown; but at last I be' came convinced that the driver was a master of his art, and the coach so strongly constructed that nothing could break it, and.. dismissing all idle fears from my mind, devoted my attention to holding on; to , my' seat, and seeing as much of the country as possible. Occasionally my opposite neighbor and I came into violent collision ; but we soon got accustomed to these little accidents. Oakura was the next place reached, where we saw the remains of what had been a strong redoubt, not far from which severe fighting had taken place in the course of the Taranaki war. Oakura has also a melancholy celebrity as the spot where Lieut. Tragetjb and his party were inurdefed. We found a store and public house,- and', by the advice of the driver, laid in a supply of biscuits,' and our " guard," at whose house we were expected to pass the nighfc, bought .some other provender.'for 'our use. • Starting again, we came on to a beach where we

could see the Sugar Loaves not far ibehind us. We soon left the beach, and after some, miles of rough driving through picturesque scenery, found ourselves on the Tataramaika Block—apparently a piece of rich level country, rather thinly settled. The old track across it,;is. very bad, and the driver, under (direction.;of the Maoris,., boldly diverged in quest of. a road for himself, driving the.coach through fern and flax and toitoi with as, little hesitation; as if it had been a sledge. .From Tataramaika for another eight miles, t^e track lay along the coast through a flat, traversed >by numerous streams, to cross which we descended to the beach. Twenty miles from New Plymouth we reached the Stony River, a rapid and dangerous stream, flowing among large boulders, very trying to the wheels of the coach. The driver'Waited'until'the crossing place had been tried by our Maori,outrider, and we got over without misadventure. ; A little distance . on, we found our first stage ; a thatched wharre formed the stable, and; another hut appeared to be the residence of: the half-caste groom, and a Maori boy who assisted jhim^-uo other-; habitation was visible.: Changing horses here vre started again, and jolted and tumbled through

eleven miles more of wild country covered with flax and toitoi, and traversed by numerous streams, which we crossed in the usual fashion. We then reached the Hariiet beach,; so called from a vessel wrecked there long ago, the crew of which was massacred by the natives. We had now seven miles of easy travelling—a great relief to horses and passengers. Leaving the beach we went further inland, through a rich flat country covered with rank vegetation, the track being as rough as' usual! ' and the coach frequently leaving it under the guidance of the Maori's, and tearing its way through scrub and fern, with a motion the reverse of agreeable to the "insides.-!-All the way through this country the bush land could be seen inland, and there, I was told, the bulk cf the natives reside. We saw very few, and only a few temporary wharres. At a place inland from Warea, I was informed that four hundred reside in one pa. After plungiDg through 7or 8 miles more of roadless country, we reached our next stage, Omnrua, twenty-five miles from Stony River, and the residence of Wiremu Kingi, the chief who brought the shipwrecked passengers by the Lord Wors« ley to New Plymouth, and whose influence and exertions mainly saved their lives. He is a tall old Maori, deeply tattooed, and wearing his native costume ; quiet. and. courteous in his manner, and with a thoughtful, intelligent face. I was rather inclined to regard him with the respect due co "an able and distinguished man," until I discovered by the evidence of ray eyes that he pursued the very undignified occupation of a grog seller, when I walked away, and left him. But this little weakness he shares, as I have learned,with nearly all his. confreres on the coast. We changed horses here, intending to > proceed to Oio, 13 miles further, and again resuned our journey. Three miles brought us to Opunake, where a Government township has lately been laid out and sold, and in the vicinity of which portions of-road have been formed, all in a dreadfully miry condition at present ; in fact, those portions are much worse than where the ground has not been disturbed. At Opunake there are •2 flax mills,one of which is in .a state of collapse, a Telegraph Office and Post Office newly Erected, and a small Btore for provender,belonging to the coach proprietor. Some other settlers are shortly expected, and> an accommodation house is to be opened soon. We remained here a few minutes, and then pushed on, having picked up a fresh passenger—the contractor for the Telegraph Office. We got on for about two miles, when our course was stopped by a flooded river. Our Maori outrider tried it in one or two places, but it was decided to be too deep, and we returned to Opunake. Food for the horses was obtained from the store, and they were tethered out; and we were hospitably entertained by the contractor'for the Telegraph Office, in that building. Our host and his men being all Wellingtonians we were quite at home, and spent a more comfortable night t)han we could v have passed at Oio. I was told that the IVlaoria paid frequent visits to the new building, and took especial delight in walking tip and down the verandah of the Post Office, rapping at the delivery window, and, demanding imaginary letters. Opunake boasts of a harbour master and a landing service possessed of two good surf'boats ; the landing place, however, is execrable, and can only be used in very fine .weather. The township is on portion of the' Jand contiscated some years ago. :The soil is exceed:ingly rich and the climate mild, and if a !>ood understanding continues between Europeans and Maoris this will be a valuable spot for settlement, but I airi afraid that no great confidence in the continuance of the present state, of matters exists.