GOD’S GIFT TO WESTLAND.

Grey River Argus, 14 February 1940, Page 4

GOD’S GIFT TO WESTLAND.

gj r _To corroborate your splendid ’ and enlightening .leading article of ( Friday, February 9th, I wish to state ’I my pleasurable experience. Being over from Christchurch for a few ’ j weeks’ holiday, last Thursday I sauntered along the railway platform, I and, having accosted a young man, ’ an official, I enquired where would he advise me to go to see the sights of Westland. “If you have not been ’ to Rewanui, you go; it is only nine ; miles out; fare 1/9; train starts at 3 " ' p.m. You’ll enjoy the trip.’’ I took his advice, bought my ticket, crossed the street to the platform, where the ’ train starts, and then away at 3 p.m., ’ There and then commenced one of , the most wonderful episodes of my 84 years. Along for about four chains, and then we commenced to ’ cross the massive Bridge that spans the gorge of the Grey River. Another bridge, parallel, for public traffic, is of stupendous design, while a few chains down stream there are ’ three large steamers loading coal and timber for the North Island. Leav- ’ ing the bridge, we turned to the right, then along ah embankment a few feet above flood level of the ’ mighty Grey River, and soon we are ' in a valley with mountains on both sides. We are gradually ascending until we reach Runanga, four miles out, and 77 feet above sea level, whereas Greymouth is but 12 feet. ’ An attractive township with a popu- ■ lation of over two thousand persons, nestled there, away from the hum and excitement of city life, Runanga appeared a desirable place for a home. Along this line I noted several coal mines, and therefore recogi nised that the population of Runanga is connected with coal mining. Onj ward we go toward the terminus of j the line, always ascending, until we arrive at Rewanui, which is 631 feet above sea level. Of course, one would not expect the line to be a direct straight climb up the mountainside. Sometimes passing through solid rock cuttings, at other times it passes round the spur of a hill, and then through a tunnel. There are two tunnels on the line, but what i adds beauty to the scene, is that i sometimes many feet below, the line there is a rivulet gurgling in its rush I along the declivity. This stream is fed by numerous waterfalls, plunging from great heights down the steep mountains’ sides, which are covered for miles with ; virgin bush. There grows the rata (just past blooming time), the rimu (or red pine), and the beeches (silver, brown, black and red). Lower down one sees a natural fernery, most beautiful, surpassing any person’s imagination. Ferns are there in millions—there grows the King fern (or, as some persons call it, the palm fern) with its lateral spread out to a distance of about twelve feet, while at their j base there are the Swarf ones, such as hen and chicken, and many others. 1 In fact, every foot of ground is oc- ' cupied, and is one mass of green of many tints. The whole panorama is J sublimity itself, so much so that one is prompted to exclaim, “All thy *■ works praise. Thee, O God.”—l am, ‘ etc ■ • H. S. PHILPOTT. « Cobden, February 12, p. 940. •