A Sportsman’s Log

Greymouth Evening Star, 25 June 1927, Page 9

A Sportsman’s Log

Tales of the Open Spaces Bishop Selwyn’s Travels THERE is more to sport than ever was printed on the pages of newspapers, perpetuated in statistics, tabulated in record books, or buried in the accumulated minutes of harassed secretaries. Of the essential elements of sport, the zestful pursuit of a rolling ball, the watchful eye on the whizzing bird, or the long stalk on 'a slanting upland, only a fraction goes beyond the immediate participants, but over the unrecorded incidents, retained only on the tablets of the memory, fancy still delights to roam.

TN essential principles the sportsmen of to-day and yesterday must differ little.' The huntsman clad in wood and hair was as fashionable, in his time, as the immaculate colonel ,who dons plus-fours for his pheasant-shoot-ing, and modern fanatics, such as the coiners of the slogan “if golf interferes with business, give up business,” are certainly no more keen than was Sir Francis Drake, who finished his game of bowls, caring not a fig for the Armada. Sport to-day. however, is surrounded by artificiality. Grounds and pavilions must be constructed, and turf lovingly tended, before conditions are right. But there still is left the sport of boys playing cricket in the vacant section, and the high adventure of freedom to go a-roving in the open country. DOMAIN OF SPORT Rich in its bounty of birds and swamp and forest, New Zealand must, as a sporting country, have been as great a century ago as it is to-day It is pleasanter to play than to watch, and few whose eyes are keen and limbs sound v r ould not rather explore a forgotten river than enjoy their sport vicariously by sitting in a grandstand. By these tokens sportsmen of the highest enterprise and courage were those who wandered over Maoriland in the years before settlement. Yet the instinct is hereditary: J. C. Bidwill, one of New Zealand’s greatest golfers, is the grandson of a man who walked, alone, through the heart of a strange country. Bidwill, botanist and explorer, followed trails no other white man had traversed, set eyes on Taupo’s tinted waters when few, indeed, had seen it. and scaled Tongariro in defiance of the sacred mystery with which the superstitious Maoris had cloaked the majestic mountains. Another such was Selwyn, prelate and sportsman, whose walks through the interior of unexplored New Zealand were monumental feats of athletic endurance. Travellers who now journey through the Manawatu Gorge by train, or drive in speedy comfort aiong the boulevard of trestled concrete clinging to its., southern wall, know nothing of the beautiful but forbidding valley as it was when Selwyn saw it. THROUGH THE GORGE . Only the unchanging river and the contours of the ranges can now suggest the former wildness and loveliness of the locality. Yet up that shadowed river Selwyn, a messenger of the Church, made his way. Neither flood nor forest could deter the adventurous bishop, and ultimately he penetrated the densely-wooded hill country tn the Dannevirke district, and was amone he first to gaze on the leagues of .adulations that later brought opulence o the wool kings of Hawke’s Bay.

The sportsmen of those days, frocked or otherwise, saw strange sights, and round their camp-fires discussed uncanny happenings. There is the authenticated incident when a tohunga, near Rotorua, struck a green . tree yellow before the eyes of the bishop’s party. Exclaiming scornfully, “Can your God do that?” lie waved his hand again, to restore the withered verdure, and the missionaries were left to ponder on what might have been either a hallucination or a fact. To-day. as in departed years, they are true sportsmen who take chances in strange country. The victims of recent mountain tragedies. Messrs. Holl. Latham and Baines, sacrificed their lives to a sport as great and as exacting as any played upon picketed turf. HEROISM IN THE MOUNTAINS There have been memorable feats performed in the mountains. On Egmont Guide Murphy, who controls the Dawson Falls mountain-house, is an athlete in the truest sense. From

dawn till dark, when not on the mountain, ho is scanning its slopes to see that all is well with the climbers, and to note whether or not they are following his sage instructions. Word of disaster sees a band of highly-trained mountaineers recruited at once from the nearby Taranaki townships, and under Guide Murphy the searchers sacrifice themselves to the limits of exhaustion. In the South Island mountain country there have been some fine achievements. Just lately attention has been directed towards the acclimatisation of wapiti and moose, and fortunate sportsmen of sufficient means to equip expeditions have ventured into fiordland in pursuit of the newly-established game. , Among the stalkers have been the Donalds, of Wairarapa (relatives of the footballers) and E. J. Herrick, a wellknown Hawke’s Bay sportsman. Herrick is part-owner of the extensive Tautane run. on the ISast Coast, and a couple of his sons, it is interesting to note, are attending Dartmouth Naval College, in England. In his excursions into the Southern fiord country Mr Herrick penetrated littleexplored territory, accompanied by Mrs Herrick throughout, and was rewarded with several fine trophies. No moose were seen, though tracks , were followed, but wapiti were stalked and shot, and it was evident that both breeds have now a footing. THE RETIRING NOTORNIS Animals whose existence was unsuspected could live, long unobserved, in the precipitous forested country of West Otago. In such country were immured two farmers who were so isolated that they did not know of the war until 10 months after its outbreak In such country, too, still lives the Notornis, probably New Zealand s rarest bird. A bigger relation of the familiar pukeko, it would doubtless make a great game-fowl if it existed in larger numbers. As things are, unfortunately, it has been seen only about three times in a century and a-half. though there is no evidence to show that specimens are not still roaming in the inaccessible fastnesses of the mountains. —J.G.M.