A TRIP TO THE TUNNEL.

King Country Chronicle, Volume XIX, Issue 2053, 9 December 1924, Page 5

A TRIP TO THE TUNNEL.

AND THE iffIARAKOPA FALLS. (By Axia.) Leaving Kinohnku in :ho early morning by motor, wo wore not long in running to TV Anga: the centre whore the four road’s meo ; . The laud being all grazing has not the wonderful variation of the limestone country. When wo tunned on to the Mangapohue Road and started up the gradient that took the road around the magnificent Mnrakopa Fails, the journey became full of incident, and every corner a surprise. The fall itself was a fine sight, the large valume of water dropping a sheer 200 feet. Flanking it wore cliffs four' or five hundred feet high, topped by the ever verdant rata which, in the flowering season, is thickjewelled with scarlet blossoms. Where we stood the road was well above the fall, while the early morning sunlight) shimmered through the dancing spray and t’arued the scene into an animated mass of greens and blues, pinks and whites. We were loth to leave sirch an enchanting siglv«i, but we wore on the way to other natural wonders and could not tarry too long. From here the road was level, and as we .went through the deep green of The bush, wo caught glimpses of smaller falls, dancing spume and chutes of turbulent water. Then the country broadened out and the river meandered along, never far from the road, and every now and again revealing a. spot of rare beauty. Three or four miles of this flat road brought us to where we met Maim, our guide, and his little girl. After sauntering across a. paddock a short! way we turned and walked up the Mangapoiluio stream, and in a few minutes wo were under the natural bridge, a hundred feet high and perhaps two chains wide each way. It presented a flat surface and had practically no arch on either side, yet 80 head of cattle have crossed it at a time. It stood there, defying Time, a monument to 'tlhc great unseen Power. One is loth to leave these sights—every turn of the eye brings some fresh form the lime has made, and the mind wanders to filie beautiful legends that are associated with these places. But we had to move if we were to see tbe great I tunnel. Turning down stream we crossed a flat paddock until we reached: the Marakopa River again, ar.d along its banks we walked. The morning was getting on and we wore very grateful for The cool shady walk in tke green hush. The track was practically level, and wound along the river for about a mile and a-half. You could not see the entrance to the tunnel until you were very close, and Then it looms up suddenly out of the green bush. The opening was very large—two waggons could enter it abreast. It was 13 chains through, and most of it 100 ft. or more high. A small stream trickles down through the centre; it was dark ahead inside. The ever dripping lime whitens flat rocks of all sizes. To the right is a vast cavern, and at ulus point Maim explained how a Maori heroine was buried there. In the dimness the candle shining on the whiteness, the old man stood seeing sftmetiling we could not _ see—the vision heautful, until the little child, taking him bv the hand, gently, brought him hack to earth. Such a spot one might well imagine was made sacred by its beauty alone. When we came out of the tunnel the air struck hot .in o’.ur faces; it was mid-day. After wandering down the stream we stayed and boiled tbe billy. r Mic sun streaked through the greenery, showing streams of humming insects. And as we dozed off the warm stillness could he felt, and softly to the ear came the lap-lap of the little child’s leet in the watei and the sweet notes of the grey warbler in the distance.