DELECTABLE DAYS.

Evening Star, Issue 15174, 3 May 1913, Page 2

DELECTABLE DAYS.

Down and bathe at day-dawn, Tramp from Jake to lake. Washing brain' and heart clean Every step we take. Leave to Robert Browning Beggars, fleas, and vines; Leave to squeamish Ruskin Popish Apennines, Dirty Stones of Venice, And bis Gas-lamps Seven; P? Snowden And the lamps of heaven. Well,- at any rate, wc got out of the rain. "f Jett Dunedin soaked in a cold, dreary amrie; He lake country, when we reached it, was bathed in summer sununme. April is the month for the Jakes. Tho sun sets earlier than in Summer, and the nights are cold; but the days are warm and bright, and the atmosphere is glorious. Tho sandflies, too, are, pretty well over. How clear and sharp are the. outlines of the mountains against the sky! How every spur and gully, rocky precipice, and clump ox scrub stand out on their jugged faces! And how the rippling 61J , r . face of the lake gleams and sparkles, in the nght It is . too wet .up there in the nprmg. too hot at Christmas. Autumn is tIA time of the year to go. It is good to follow the tourists’ tracks—Queenstown, Paradise, over the Crown Ranges, down the Cardrona Valley, Pembroke, Cromwell Clyde; bnt it is better far, if you can, to turn aside into the wilds where the deerstalkers and the rangers go. For ourselves, alas! deer-stalking j s impossible. We could bring down a royal stag at 300 yards with any man,' if we could get at him • but we are burdened too heavily with the rrexght, if not of years, of many ponnds avoirdupois, to face the craggy heights which are his haunts. We must bo content with humbler achievements. To catch a.sight of a noble fellow, proudly herding his little harem of hinds among the fern, or Wing them from pinnacle to pinnacle arid the shelter of some rocky glen—such joy, forsooth, must suffice us. Our way lies along the bridle paths that skirt the lakes and thread the valleys and penetrate .the bush. We can trudge along these for many hours in the light, bracing air of that high country, or jog along, wide-straddled on a half-draught nag borrowed from some friendly station. A horse, a tent, a roll of blankets, a billy, and a sack of tucker—with these, and a companion similarly endowed, among the mountains a man is a king. **** * * « You sleep sound and snug on your bed of bracken, having earned your rest by the toils of the day. You rise at daybreak—the chill that comes before the dawn sees to that. You have a plunge in the brook that babbles by, and are as fresh as a lark, . At home you feel heroic when you light the kitchen rang© for your wife of a morning; but gathering sticks and kindling the fire arid boiling the billy for breakfast by the brook side makes you as happy as a sandboy, Ypur tea will be too weak or too strong when your wife brews it for you before you go to business ; but you drink it anyhow, and smoked and all, when you brew it yourself at the foot of the hills. You will not complain though your plate bo greasy, if you were dishwasher tho night before. You are out to rough it a. bit, and all these things are part of the fun. Then you catch your horses again and are off on the track—to nowhere in particular, only through lanes of manuka and thickets of matagouri, along tussocky fiats, and over wido spans of tutu and lem, fording creeks and rivers, climbing steep banks, skirting swamps of flax, with always (tho mountains and their precipices towering son either hand, and the blue sky over you. ..Hero you wonder at the multitude of rabbits in the wilds, and there you count how many birds axe in that flight of paradise ducks. You stop to admire a black swan with her cygnets on the lagoon, or to debate whether that can bo a kea winging his way across the valley. You dismount to lead your steed round a rocky point, where the crag drops sheer into tho lake, and gaze down to marvel at the mighty trout clearly visible in the limpid water. There were a> hundred of them in one shoal we saw. It was our good luck to camp one night beside a lonely fisher, who had a license to net. We went out with him in his boat in the morning to secure the spoil, and with our own hands we hauled in a magnificent fish. As big as a salmon 1 / Begorra, he had flanks like a whale’ *******

We admit that evening ie the trying time of the day. You are tired. You Have probably .forgotten how many things there are to do and how short tho twilight is. The wind is coming down cold from the snowy peaks at the head of the valley, and you have elected to camp where, somehow or other, diy wood for the fire is scarce. Your companion takes a selfish turn, and leaves you more than your share of the work. The billy is a long time in bojliag. He clumsily drops the butter right in the, (sandiest spot- The tent, which you rolled up hurriedly in the morning, takes twice the time it should to pitch; and the nearest bracken is a long way off. But at last you have everything in order. You sit down-under cover lor a last pipe, taking care to blow your matches out before you throw them down. Your mate is his old self again, as you discuss the journey, or picture each what his own little woman at homo is doing at this moment. ■ Then, if you do what you certainly ought, you will give Hanks where thanks are due “For such a delectable day,” and, turning in comfortably weary, will be asleep before your toes are warm. How you do sleep then, after your long day in the open; deep, soul-refreshing sleep! If you wake once in the darkness it is only to hear the plash of the rivulet by your side, or your horses munching round the tent, or perhaps the roar of a stag reverberating in the gullies; then to roll over on your other side and be asleep again in half & minute. But once an extraordinary thing happened to ns. W© were wakened in the middle of the night by something jumping on top of us, and, starting up with a cry, saw a black form bounding through the foot flaps. Till our dying day we will swear it was a dog: we distinctly felt Ms four paws through the blankets. But our companion will have it that it was either the devil or a dream. “ Wherever could a dog com© from?” he asks unbelievingly. * * * * * * *

Good fortune brought us one evening to the homestead of the farthest-bock station in these parts- It was picturesquely situated on the river flat not far from the ford, surrounded by a groat belt of weeping willows. Within the widows ■ were an orchard, a Jittle line' of gooseberry bushes, and a vegetable patch- In the centre stood the house, a tiny,: weather-beaten cottage, richly stained with faggot smoke inside*. We knew of old th©'.hospitality of these regions. Wo were sure of our welcome. This place belonged to three brothers, men of intelligence and enterprisa, who were busy making a miniature cattle ranch of it, experimenting on the silty soil with lucerne and. crimson clover and all sorts of things.

for winter feed. One of them met ns as we rode up- We hardly needed to introdnca ourselves; we wore at home in a moment. Everything was offered ns that men could need, and what was not offered we were free to take. We put up our tent beneath an apple tree, spread our beds, washed our hands in a tin basin on a box by the door, and entered the house. There was no sign of woman’s hand about the room, to be sure; but a capital fire blazed on the capacious hearth, and two frying pans, heavily laden with thick, juicy trout steaks, tickled our appetites. Wo were given the place of honor at the table, and waited on hand and foot. No ceremony, but all essential courtesy and Our hosts had several other guest® that evening, among them the manager of a lakeside sheep station and the ranger of the, deer forest. We were a merry company after tea, sitting round Che fire on stools and boxes. Everybody smoked and most of ffs told stories. But we city men mainly listened. What yams could we put up beside those about the old-time worthies who settled in that country first of all They are hard to reproduce, these storied of driving cattle and mustering sheep of fording, rivers and exploring mountain pauses. You must hear them from the bps of the men who knew the heroes, told in their own fresh idiom and with their own rich gusto. *******

The more heroic tales we shall not attempt to recount, but one or two anecdotes in lighter vein we may set down. Tnere was one character well known aforetime in these parts. To change his name but preserve his nationality, let us call hun Mike. Mike leased some land thereabonts in earlier days, and ran cattle on it. Ho had a thousand head, they say, before the rabbits came. But the rabbits perpkxed him sorely. He'did not know what to do with them, and they throve and multiplied on his river flats. One night, as he sat talking to himself in his but, who chanced to step in but tho rabbit inspector—tho one man in creation he did not want to see. Nest morning his vhdbe 01115 taking a note of the rabbits; he most contrive somehow to get nd of him. And he did. He sat still, the inspector yarned away for an hour or more, wondering whether there was going to be any supper. He stirred the fire threw on a log or two, hung the billy on the hook, and at last turned to Mike and suggested: “Hadn’t we better have something to eat?” “Yes,” said Mike; “I’ll go oat and get ye something.” Out he went, and was gone a good half-hour. The inspector heard a shot. Then Mike re“There,” he says, “make vonr n“f, P6r V aEd thrßW on the table—a 'rab- , , Rector gazed a moment, seized bs cap, and fled; and Mike chuckled to himself as he heard him riding down the track in the, moonlight, supperless. To tack another story on to the same name Mka found himself once in a little bacfcblocks hotel where he wanted to pass the night. The landlord happened to have other visitors, and his accommodation was scant. There was no bed for Mike. But Mike was equal to the occasmn. One of the guests was a traveller from the lowlands, and a bit of a swell in his way. Mike marked him for his victim, watched him go to Lis room, Zt, Z h u ha f time «mg between the sheets boldly opened the door nrn I”' IT Kt the and proceeded to take off his beets. «I think C lb" “S® 3 mki3k6 > n a from the pillows; “this is my room." <( Not at all,”,said Mike; “this is the ([ room I slept in last night. It’s youwho have made a mistake; but lie still, yer honor, and wo’U g 0 shares with the bed ” And Mike crept in beside him. Almost immediately he began to scratch himself. iJirst he scratched his arm, then his leg; then he reached vigorously after trie inaccessible area between his shoulders. Bis bedfellow showed signs of discomtoit „ :\ ever m °lnd,” says ' Mike, cheerily; its only flays—nothing worse.” That was enough for the stranger. He got up, put on his clothes, and spent the night elsewhere; Mike settled down to a sound sleep. “He thought that Mike was crumby,” saM the man who told the story, “ but he wasn't. I know for I’ve slept with him myself.” *******

AnJ so the evening sped. They aie a magnificert set of men, tho men of the upcountry backblocks. There are wasters among inem, and many a (..dish fel'ow earns his cheque only to k-ock it down again. But there arc to he found there as fine types of manhood, both physically and morally, as anywhere in the world. The outward signs and tokens of Chris'tianity may be few, but the spirit of it abounds. They are men of infinite courage and resource, making a living f or themselves and doing a priceless service to the Dominion, pioneering among the mountains. Their days are full of interest, for they live close to Nature. They do not lack for the necessities of life, but they are very bare of its comforts. Of hardships or inconveniences, however, they take no stock. They stand by and help each other, and that right loyally. A stranger benighted among them will get the best they have to give. All honor and encouragement to them. We shall not soon forget our hosts of tho homestead among the willows. Three finer gentlemen it has rarely been our lot to meet.