GEOLOGICAL SURVEY.

Lyttelton Times, Volume XXIV, Issue 1485, 14 September 1865, Page 6

GEOLOGICAL SURVEY.

Geological Survey Office, Christchurch, Canterbury, N.Z., Aug. 24,1865. Sir, —According to instructions contained in your letter of the 18th of this month, to report upon the possibility of finding a road to the West Coast across the Mackenzie Country, I have the honour to communicate to you, for the information of his Honor the "Superintendent, the results taken from my journals of the examination of that country during the year 1862, which will, I hope, be sufficient to show conclusively that there is no prospect of finding a practicable pass by the head-waters of the YVaitaki to the western side of the province. And I may add, that if even such an opening did exist, it would not only involve us in a heavier outlay than the present resources of the province would permit, but would also lead too far south of the present goldfields to be of any use for general traffic. A writer in the Timaru Herald of the 12th of August, upon the important qeestion of the discovery of a pass to the We3t Coast by way of the rivers forming Lake Ohou, states rather authoritatively that " Dr. Haast was at the base of Mount Cook, and also for some distance up the gorges of the two last-men-tioned rivers (those forming lakes Pukakiand Tekapo), but he did not travel up the gorge of the Ohou." Moreover, the tracings which, two years ago, I furnished to the Chief Surveyor will at once show that I did not only travel up to the very sources of all the rivers which form Lakes Pnkaki, Tekapo, and Ohou, and that Mr. Arfhur Dobson, who was then my assistant, chained, under considerable difficulties to the very foot of the glaciers which are found at these head-waters, but also that I travelled several miles up the principal glaciers, in order to complete a system of triangulation upon a base line measured at the upper end of our chain line across the valleys. I suppose, besides other available information, the accounts in the Lyltelton Times of June, 1862, of my various journeys duringthe year 1862 to the glaciers at the termination of the different valleys where the head-waters of the river Waitaki are situated, must have been overlooked by the writer of that article. It is true that, in former days, the Maoris travelled across the Mackenzie country to the West Coast, but they followed a road by the Lindis pass and Lake Wanaka to the Open Bay, far too much south to be, for Timaru at least, of any use in reaching the goldfields at present worked. Before I started, at the 1 end of 1862, to the West Coast, by Lake Wanaka, I had a long conversation with an : old Maori chief at Waimate, who assured me repeatedly that there was no other pass known to them except the one by Lake Wanaka; confirming a statement made to 1 me in 1859, at the West Coast, by several aged Maori chiefs, as, for instance, Terapuhi, 1 at the mouth of the river Grey, and his guest J Taitahi. generally living near Taitahi Head, 1 now Bruce Bay. My former travels to the head-waters of the' rivers forming the Mackenzie Country lakes had already, in a great ® measure, confirmed their statements ; but as I had then not yet visited the sources of the 1 river Ahuriri, the most southerly branch of the Waitaki, and of the river Hunter, form- c ing Lake Hawea, the latter belonging to the g MoFyneux system, I was naturally anxious v before starting in that direction, to obtain as n much information as possible. n In the map of the province of Canterbury, 2 published by Mr. Browning, the principal results of my surveys are given, and a careful {j examination of it would very soon have a , shown to those anxious to obtain information S( upon that question, that in the central por- C( tion of our Southern Alps no passage to the p . West Coast is possible, except by an experienced mountaineer, over glaciers and large gc fields of perpetual snow. This fact was still n( more impressed upon me during my last journey to the West Coast, where these stupendous mountain-walls are seen to rise so t j ( very steeply from the low-lands bordering the 0 j coast, and where no break of any depth is visible as fir south as the eye can reach, j,, when standing at the mouth of the river p£ Waiau. But, in order that you may judge for yourself, I shall at once proceed to give pc you those extracts from my journals which j n bear directly upon the question at issue. Beginning at the head-waters of Lake so Tekapo, the main river, which I named the th God'ey, derives its principal waters from two W enormous glaciers, both more than a mile Hi broad at their terminal face. I travelled over th a great part of both glaciers, and there is no on pass existing at their head except by snow a ]

saddles, of which one by the northern, the Godley glacier, would bring the alpineer into the valley of the Whataroa, reaching the West Coast about 45 miles south of the Hokitika; whilst those by the Classen glacier, which comes from the west, would lead towards the West Coast Waitaki, uniting with the Whataroa near its mouth. Another important tributary joins the river Godley from the east, which I named the Macaulay, and which I ascended also to its glacier sources, situated on the southern side of Mount Forbes, an enormous snow-clad chain,

which sends on its eastern side the Forbes glacier towards the Havelock, the southern branch of the Rangitata, whilst from its western flanks the FitzGerald glacier, nearly reaches the great Godley glacier, under which its outlet flows for more than a mile. Mount Forbes is one of the lateral chains of our central Alps, running in a southerly direction from Mount Tyndall, another nucleus from which the Southern liakaia and other principal liangitata glaciers are derived, the northern slopes of which are formed by Whitcombe's Pass. It is thus clear that here no pass can exist, except for a mountaineer, well used to the alpine stick and the ice-axe. Lake Tekapo has another tributary, which I named the Cass. This river was also chained by my assistant to its very sources, two glaciers, the eastern one coming from the southern slopes of Mount Darwin, where no passage is passible. I ascended a high peak close to it, on its eastern side, and near which a saddle leads over another glacier to the valley of the Godley river. The western glacier comes also from the slopes of Mount Darwin, one of the highest snow-clad summits of our Alps, South-west of the latter glacier the ranges are somewhat broken, but would lead the explorer upon the Murchison glacier, the outlet of which forms one of the feeders of the Tasman river. It)is obvious that, under tiiese circumstances, also here no passage is possible to reach the West Coast, and we have to come to the same conclusion when we examine the head-waters of the Tasman river, which feeds Lake Pukaki. Also, here I can speak confidently, because I devoted nearly a month to a thorough exploration of those valleys, during which I ascended the principal glaciers, sometimes, as I had done in the valley of the Godley, travelling with my companions several miles over the ice. At the same time I ascended several mountains in that neighbourhood, of which a visit to the Mount Cook range, which we climbed to an altitude of nearly 7600 feet, gave me still a better opportunity to study the orograpliical features of the alpine chain before me. I shall give a few extracts from my journai concerning this mountain trip, to show the nature of the country and the character of the mountains. "The weather, which for several days bad been very tempestuous, cleared up at last, and on the 12th of April, at daylight, we started to ascend the Mount C'ook range. It was a cold but sunny morning, and with great expectations we climbed through the fagus forest, which, for the first six or seven hundred feet, intermixed with sub-alpine shrubs, covers the side of the range. ' "After leaving the forest, we came to alpine vegetation, becoming still more characteristic about 1800 feet above the valley, amongst the

rocks, where we climbed along to the crest of the mountain lending towards Mount Cook

proper, But although the ridge, as seen from tire talley, seeuiied quite smooth ; it consisted <)f huge rocks, broken up into very sharp prismatic fragments, lying loosely upon each other, often with d&p precipices on both sides, where one false step would have cost life or limb. Soon patches of anow appeared,

rhich were remaining from the last storms, >ver which we worked our way higher and ligher. The view became at every moment grander, and, having readied an altitude >f 6500 feet, I established my first station. " "Although the sun shone brilliantly from i cloudless sky, it was extremely chilly in the ihade amongst the rocks, where we went to iheltnr ourselves from the icy blowing winds. The thermometer at eleven o'clock stood below freezing point. Again on our road, the rocks jecame more and more broken; hitherto they lad consisted of dioritic sandstones, but now dates, often of a serpentinous nature, made ;heir appearance, and about 7500 feet above lie sea we came upon a precipice of ibout ten feet wide, and, perhaps, ;hirty feet deep, the vertical stratum of jlayslates between two othersof dioritic sandstone having been here removed; and as it iras impossible to round it, and we iiad no ladder with us to throw across, wc were obliged to retreat. The view from this point is admirable in the extreme. The bold tent-like form of Mount Cook proper occupied the foreground, surrounded by man) peaks of every conceivable shape. Deef below us the great Tasman glacier carriet slowly but steadily its heavy detritus loac 3own to its terminal face, whilst towards tin south the large watershed of Lake Pukaki surrounded by well-shaped hills, appeared or the horizon. West of Mount Cook a snov saddle leads to the West Coast, and then th< central chain again assumes its natural gran Jeur. From that latter range two glacieri come down, one from the south-west, th< Dther from the north, uniting their outle with the Tasman river." " A great deal of new snow had been col lected on this majestic range, which rose s< beautifully before us, and we enjoyed the fini spectacle of witnessing during our ascent fiv< avalanches fall from MOunt Sefton, th< thunder occasioned by them being reverber rated by the echoes in the mountains arounc us." The head of the valley of th< Tasman is formed by the higher por lion of the Southern Alps proper, which from Mount Sefton, in the Moorhouse Range run to Mount Elie de Beaumont, another cul ninating point of that sublime chain. It: lverage altitude reaches at least 10,000 feet, ibove which the principal summits rise it Dold forms, and of which Mount Cook, stand ing in the foreground, is t!ie most con jpicuous. There is only one break worth mentioning in the whole range which can be called a col >t snow-saddle, namely, between Mount Cool md Mount Stokes, and most visible from tin Mueller Glacier up the valley of the Hookei jlacier, the latter descending in two mail ranches from the south-western flanks o Hount Cook and the south-eastern side o Mount Stokes. But this saddle can only bi •eached by travelling four miles over th< Hooker Glacier, and could only be crossed b; an experienced alpine traveller. The great Tasman Glacier, filling entirr

the broad valley from Mount Elie de Beaumont to the south-eastern foot of Mount Cook, would form an impassable barrier to any ordinary traffic, even did a pass exist through the Southern Alps proper ; but, as I already before observed, I had an opportunity to judge of this part of the country by travelling several miles over this glacier towards its origin. Everywhere the dimensions of the central chain on the western side of that glacier are gigantic, their slopes being covered with enormous snow fields, from which numerous glaciers descend to swell that treI mendous trunk glacier, named by me the great Tasman, after the discoverer of New Zealand. These former observations were confirmed this year by travelling along the West Coast and ascending the Waiau to its principal source, the Francis Joseph Glacier. At that coast it is still more apparent what an impassable wall of ice and rock the Southern Alps proper present, where also glaciers, scarcely less inferior in size to their eastern neighbours descend towards the West Coast plains. Being anxious to obtain as much information as possible, I interrogated closely some old Maoris living near the mouth of the river Whataroa, and who had been wood-hen hunting up all the principal rivers in that part of the country to the very foot of the Alps. They, too, assured me that it was impossible to cross the central chain anywhere in that direction. The fact that a river, which has its glacier sources opposite those of the Godley (one of the Waitaki sources) bears also the name of Waitaki, first pointed out by Mr. Leonard Harper some years ago, made me first suspect that there was a possibility of crossing from one side of the central chain to the other by a pass which was known to the Maoris ; but I was repeatedly assured by them that such a break did not exist, and that they had to go down far to the south before there was a pass leading to Lake Wanaka, without doubt alluding to that which I re-discovered in 1863. - •

There remains amongst the head-waters of the Tasman river still another, of which I have not yet spoken, namely, the Mueller Glacier. It has nearly n general easterly direction, and its principal ice masses descend from Mount S'efton and theMoorhouse range. Near the head of this glacier is a pass over a wall, formed of nearly perpendicular rocks, about 1000 feet above the glacier, which would bring us upon the Selwyn glacier, forming one of the principal sources Of the river Dobson, the eastern main branch of the river falling into Lake Ohou. It is true the Southern Alps south of Mount Sefton begin to lose somewhat in average altitude, but are still of the same character, their continuous average height being still above the line of perpetual snow. I shall now proceed to offer you some remarks upon the river Hopkins and its tributaries, which form Lake Ohou, and by one of which, Timarul report says, an easy pass exists to the West Coast of this province, and, in doing so, I shall first describe the easterly branch, which I named the Dobson,

and which, as well as the main branch, has been chained by Mr. Arthur Dobson close to the glaciers. The valley at the head of Lake Ohou continues for five miles to have the same breadth of about two mileß, being .formed by the delta deposits of the river having filled the lake so far, and through which it now flows very sluggishly. Where no fans reach the

valley, the ground is exceedingly swampy and difficult to travel over, unless one knows the cattle tracks, till the valleys of the two main tributaries are reached.

The traveller, in approaching from the eastern side, as soon as he has passed the shores of Lake Ohou, near the entrance of the main river, will, if travelling with horses, very soon Jbe obliged to leave the river bed and seek his way over the low rocky hillocks (true roclies mou ton noes, which here border the eastern side of the valley. Many swampy water-courses had to be crossed, and a dense

vegetation of wild Irishmen ([Discaria Tou• malou Raoul) and spear-grasses (Aciphytla Colensoi and Lyullii Hook : which covered the hill-sides, made travelling very laborious. After several miles, we entered the river-bed of the Dobson, originally about half a mile to three-quarters of a mile broad, but now much narrowed by enormous fans of the mountain torrents, which enter the main valley on both sides, the largest ones from the eastern. In some localities the river has set against these fans, partly destroying them, and exhibiting clearly the form of this peculiar accumulation.

The character of the valley, advancing towards north, becomes more and more truly alpine ; but the beauty of the exquisite scenery is still heightened by the magnificent vegetation, mostly consisting of Fagus cliffortioides and fusca (the white and black birch of the settlers), which cover the mountain sides for about 1000 feet, succeeded above by alpine vegetation, over and through which the rocky pinnacles, pyramids, and other masses, often shaped into fantastic forms, stretch towards the sky. Perpetual snow, first only accumulating in deep well-shaded localities, but augmenting in quantity the more we ascend the valley, and numerous small waterfalls giving life and animation to the solitary landscape around ns. make their appearance. At several spots on both sides of the valley the forest has been destroyed, often in a straight narrow line down the mountain, as if a gigantic road had been cut from summit to bottom, whilst at others

a whole hill side has been laid bare, both being the effect of numerous avalanches. After 14 miles the valley contracts, and the river winds its course through an old moraine which lies across it. These ancient glacier accumulations are covered with a dense subalpine vegetation, which is nearly impenetrable to horse or man ; but as the river, owing to the favourable season (end of April) was very low, no difficulty was experienced in travelling along its bed, or by crossing and recrossing it. Above this moraine, about half a_ mile broad, the valley opens again, but without reaching the same breadth as before, and grass flats, occurring occasionally on one side or the other, afford better travelling ground. The contrast between the eastern and western sides of the valley becomes now very remarkable. On the eastern side dense forest with deep valleys and gorges, in which small but splendid waterfalls come down like so many moving ribbons of silver ; on the western, rocky walls, mostly naked and nearly perpendicular, many thousand feet high, scarcely ever offering room for the unchequered growth of alpine vegetation. The summit of this stupendous wall is covered with a sheet of snow thirty or more feet thick, but mostly too steep to allow the formation even of small glaciers on that side, which, therefore, descend ! towards the western valley. Near the river, and at some few localities of an easier gradient, I met with numerous remains of avalanches fallen during the end of winter and spring, and shewing the enormous quantity of snow which must accumulate here to be able to withstand the melting process of several months, during which the sun is particularly powerful in these deep alpine valleys. About a mile from the head of the valley it was, owing to the enormous blocks by which the river-bed was strewn, no longer possible to travel on horseback. I therefore continued on foot, and soon stood at the terminal face of the main glacier, which comes principally from the south-eastern slopes of the Moorhouse range; whilst another branch unites with it at the foot of the gigantic rocky wall which divides it from the Mueller glacier; this latter branch descends from the high range lying between the bed of the Tasman river and that of the river under review. The altitude of the main glacier is 4311

feet above the level of the sea. About a quarter of a mile down the valley another glacier, of a very interesting construction, comes down the principal peak of the Naumann range, which runs from the Moorhouse range between the two main branches of the Hopkins river to their junction. Owing to the great steepness of the mountain sides, a large portion of the ice, before it can melt, is pushed, at many spots, over the perpendicular ledges, and, falling down with a tremendous crash, is again cemented together to expand to a new glacier, at the same time a narrow channel between the upper and lower glaciers brings down the remains of the upper ice masses, which have escaped being thrown over. I named this glacier the Hourglass Glacier, from its peculiar form. The altitude of its terminal face above the sea is 3816 feet. It is thus obvious that here no pass is practicable, either to the West Coast direct, or even across the Naumann range into the valley of the Upper Hopkins. It might, perhaps, be thought superfluous that I give in detail all these facts, which, besides being taken from my journal, have been strengthened by looking over, once more, all the sketches made 011 the spot, were not a question of such vital importance as the union of the East and West Coast under contemplation. The river, therefore, by which we ought to find a passage to the westward, if sucli exists, from the Mackenzie Country, is the Hopkins, the western or main branch of the river forming Lake Oheu. As the Hopkins possesses a larger amount of water than the Dobson, it has still in a greater degree raised its channel at the junction of both rivers ; the consequence is, that the space between their beds and the Naumann range has been transformed into a swampy flat, where it was utterly impossible, even in that dry season, to pass with my pack-horses without bogging them continually, and we had therefore to descend the Dobson to its junction, thus lengthening our road by several miles. The bed of the main river near the junction is Bometinies exceedingly soft, and consisting of quicksands, so that it requires great care not to have any accidents. Its valley is about a mile broad, through which the Hopkins meanders often in many branches. It does not generally offer any difficulty during that season, when all our alpine rivers are very low, but in spring it is i;ar different, as I had occasion to find when ascending that river again in December of the same year. The Naumann range, already alluded to, lies here on the eastern side, and owing to its narrowness, it is obvious that comparatively not much water can collect on it, although the greater part drains towards this main valley. It is very different on the western side of the valley, where a very large chain, often very little inferior to the central Alps, trends to the south from Mount Holmes in the main chain. Keeping on the western side of Lake Ohou, we pass within three miles above it two tributaries of moderate size, coming from this chain, which, from an altitude of about 5000 feet near the lake, soon assumes such dimensions that its summits are covered with perpetual snow. The principal of these torrents, which reaches the main river about a mile below its junction with the Dobson river, comes from the west, from some glaciers of the second order, situated on the flanks of a high rugged range which gives rise to the Ahuriri on its southern declivities. Having ascended the river for about eight miles, we reach the third large tributary, which, washing the northern flanks of that range, would first offer a passage to the north of the sources of the Ahuriri, if such pass existed. To the north of this affluent the mountains on the western side assume still more gigantic forms ; peak rises above peak, and even the average line of altitude is here so great, that everywhere large snow-fields are allowed to accumulate on the cols between

;he higher peaks. The fact that the foot of

the ranges is covered here also with luxuriant beech forests, contributes largely to form one of the finest landscapes in our Southern Alps, the more so as now glacis often of fair dimensions begin to make their appearance. When travelling up this valley in the beginning of May, the main river was very low, so that it could easily be forded above the rapids, and even on foot, without any great difficulty. The same can be stated of its tributaries from the west, although thty, like the main river during moderate freshes, are nearly impassable, as I shall relate afterwards when speaking of my second visit to this valley in the spring. But, before proceeding, it will be necessary to speak of the general structure of the Southern Alps, south of the Moorhouse range, as the diversity of their orographical features will force upon us different conclusions from those which we should have adopted had the main chain here continued to be similar to the northern portion ; and I can perhaps not do better than to quote from my notes made during my journey to the West Coast in 1863, in which these peculiar features are described, and which were first revealed to me when standing near the summit of Mount Brewster. " From the southern main sources of the river Kakaia to Mount Holmes, at the southern termination of the Moorhouse range, the Alps consist of one main chain sending off divergent branches, which become gradually lower till they reach the Canterbury plains ; but near this southern point an important change in their orographical structure occurs, which nccountsfor all the peculiarities in that part of the island. The Southern

Alps divide into two almost equal chains, of which the eastern one extends along the western bank of the Hopkins to Mount Ward, whence it turns iu a south-west by west direction towards mount Brewster, On the western side of the Makarora the continuation of Mount Brewster is found in Mount Stuart. The western chain of the Alps commences also near Mount Holmes, losing near the sources of the Hopkins somewhat in altitude, but afterwards rises again to a great height, being formed by magnificent ranges, of which Mount Hooker and the Grey range are the most conspicuous. It runs in a south-west direotion till it is broken through by the river

ng Haast, after the junction of the Clarke, tho brond valley of the latter occupying the space he or basin between these two alpine chainß. n® "After this second break the Alps rise ier ngain, on the left side of that river, to a considerable altitude, covered with vast fields of r &* perpetual snow, both chains uniting at Mount ng Stuart, and running down in one longitudinal as chain towards Mount Aspiring, the southern 'a- pointof ourboundnryin thecentralclmin; but f e- it is, notwithstanding, true that the Alps south of the Moorhouse range begin to lose *'® their continuity in some degree, being often u : broken in shurp pyramidical peaks, seldom :K| attaining a greater nltitude than 10,000 feet, ne with numerous but generally inaccessible cols between them." It is thus clear that the only water-course of id any consequence by which we could cross to W the west is that tributary of the Hopkins, 9t which joins it eight miles above the junction "1 of the river Dobson, or thirteen miles of its w entrance into the lake, its sources lying on tho eastern slopes of Mount Ward, and on the ' 8 > northern side of the high range where the ir > Ahuriri takes its rise. The water-shed beir - tween it and the next river to'the west is not °" of such altitude that it could not be ovcrcome, but it would not lead us to waters runw ning to the West Coast, but to the bed of the )o river Hunter, which falls into Lake Hawea, and would theref6re be of no use. 'd The next torrent which joins the Hopkins ir » brings the waters down from the eastern a * flanks of Mount Ward and the south-eastern a " portion of the Hitter range, where the alpine Br character of the chains precludes the possibility of crossing, except by members of to an Alpine Club, who devote their leisure time « going over nearly inaccessible cols, or ascendr" ing peaks in the European Alps which le hitherto have not yet been " done." Having passed several waterfalls on the 7 western side coming from glaciers of second J order of the same chain, the bed of the river, ir which hitherto showed all the characteristics re of a true shingle valley (the only obstacle to r - its waters rushing from side to side of the 3 8 valley being the fans of the mountain torrents which join it from both sides), is now h confined in a narrow gorge; which has been y cut through an ancient moraine about half-a-mile broad, through which we brought the » horses without difficulty by crossing and ren crossing the rapid current repeatedly. Another small tributary joins the Hopkins 1 here from the west; but although I was not '■ able to see its source entirely, lam convinced "> that there is no possibility, judging from the a character of the mountains and the precipitous nature of the deep rocky valley itself, that a passage can exist there. 8 Such a passage would lead us into one of the affluents of the river Clarke, which falls into the river Haast, the latter reaching the West Coast in Open Bay, so far distant from 3 any goldfield at present worked, that it would 1 be utterly useless. Besides, the ruggedness of the country is such that an enormous amount 3 of money would have to be expended before r such a track could be made. Should any one i wish to convince himself of these facts, he can do so by ascending Mount Brewster, and 3 other neighbouring mountains, whence the • character of that portion of the central range ' is so easily studied. 3 The valley above the ancient moraine ex- & pands again, and continues for about three 1 miles to form a large flat covered with grass or sub-alpine vegetation, through which the ' river meanders. At its upper end another > morainic accumulation is met with, now 5 mostly destroyed or covered with the deposits ! brought down by two mountain torrents 5 reaching the river from both sides nearly ' opposite to each other. This second moraine is distant about four miles from the terminal face of the Richard--1 son Glacier ("4231 feet), which closes the > valley, being surrounded on three sides by i high rocky walls, often so steep that no snow can accumulate upon them. The main glacier is fed principally by three branches descend--1 ing from Mount Holmes and its neighbouring peaks, but is augmented at the same time by innumerable avalanches and ice falls coming down upon it in many localities To reach this glacier from the last-mentioned ancient moraine, some difficulty is in the way of the explorer, as the river bed very soon narrows, coming down in a succession of rapids and smaller falls over and between enormous blocks of rocks, which often seem to bar its passage altogether. The fall of the river from the lake to the Richardson glacier is 2394 feet, or 95 feet per mile, whilst from my last camp it is much more considerable, the difference between the last two stations being 1356 feet, or 339 feet per mile. I first reached this glacier on the 3rd of May, having left my horses four miles below at my last camp. Snow had fallen in the night, and it was bitterly cold, and, although I was enabled to finish the survey of the valley to its glacier sources, the weather was too misty to obtain the necessary bearings to the summits of the glorious alpine chain in front. At the same

1 time, our provisions being exhausted, I could » not wait for better weather, but had at once » to return to Lake Ohou ; but, from what I ' observed, there was not the least doubt left 1 in my mind that no practicable pass exists to the West Coast in this direction. » This opinion was strengthened in December of the same year, ivhen my desire to examine 1 more closely into the character of the rocks to see if they belonged to the auriferous series, induced me to ascend the Hopkins once more, not only to the glacier, where in high walls the oldest rocks of our central chain are well developed, but in order to obtain a better station for my topographical work, to travel over it for a good distance. But the river was now very different from the first time I visited it. Winter was then coming, the snow of the preceding season had already long given way before the powerful sun of the spring and summer months, and the water of the river was consequently near its lowest, the more so as during the nights hard irost took place. Now, in beginning of December, large masses of deep snow still filled most of the depressions in the ranges, or it was sprinkled everywhere amongst the rocks above the line of alpine vegetation. The river itself was high even during fine weather, and, owing to the almost continuous rain then experienced, among the higher ranges, was so Swollen that it was often impassable even on horseback. The smaller tributaries, too, which in winter were scarcely knee-deep, were now rapid torrents, which offered often greater difficulties in crossing. The fall of avalanches, endangering the lives of travellers, was still going

on in the higher portion of the valley, novr ornamented by a rich agd variegated vegetation in full blossom. Water was coming down everywhere from the mountain sides, and many a small rill, which in winter had only appeared like a silver thread now poured down as a splendid cascade. The frequent rain-falls and thunderstorms, however, and the heavy freshes in the river, consequently made this spring journey a much more difficult task than the previous one in the beginning of winter. Instead of four or five days, which I proposed to devote to this prospecting journey up to the sources of the Hopkins, and one of the other smaller tributaries, which, in a more favourable season, easily would have been accomplished, it took me from the 14th to the 30th of December before I could finish the contemplated work. I We had no little difficulty in crossing the main river before we reached the third western tributary, where I intended to stay a day for prospecting purposes. Wodnesday, December 17. —This creek, before entering the main vallej, passes, as is very often the case in similar lateral valloys, through a rocky gorge cut through low iceworn hills at tho junction of both valleys, and, notwithstanding the fine weather, the melting of the winter snows made this affluent very difficult to ascend, as it had to be crossed several times in the gorge. At the same time, the fords were so situated that they had to be crossed against the stream, which was here exceedingly rapid. I therefore preferred to go over a low wooded range on the southern side of tho river, about 800 feet high, and thus to como down into the valley below tho gorge, which appeared to widen there considerably. Ihe ascent from the main valley wfis easy, but, owing to the almost perpendicular jjjf&dient on the other side, we had the greatest difficulty in reaching the valley, and were often obliged to let ourselves down by the trees growing in the flsaores of tho rocks ;

and on arriving at the bottom, had immediately to cross the river, breast deep, as there was no other possibility of continuing our journey. The valley is about three to four miles long, and Ims, near its termination, a small glacier. The mountains on its western side are not very high, but owing to the tremendous rocky precipices they present everywhere, are impassable for ordinary travellers. As we should have been benighted had we again climbed the hill sides, I preferred returning by the gorge, where, crossing with the current, and using a stick between us in the Maori fashion, we arrived safely towards evening ugain a' our camp. I give this and the following extracts from my journal, omitting all details of scientific bearing, in order to show what difficulties these smaller rivers and their tributaries present in every season but winter. It was not without trouble that we crossed the main river in the gorge through the first moraine, the muddy state of the water, and the large blocks in its bed, offering often serious obstacles in seeing or making our way from one side to the other. Now nnd then, whilst travelling to our former highest camp, the fall of avalanches broke the stillness of nature, and warned me to be very careful, not only in selecting the road, but also in choosing a camping ground. Although most of the avalanches which fell were comparatively small, the season being already far advanced, at several localities the enormous devastation which they had caused were proofs enough that some of them had been of colossal dimensions. At some localities the whole forest, reaching about 1000 feet above the valley, was thrown down, the stems of the trees, often of large size, lying over each other like so many reeds scattered over the ground; at others the trees were only broken off above the roots and carried down the mountain side, the remainder resembling a gigantic stubble field; whilst, in some instances, the whole forest, with the ground on which it had grown, had disappeared altogether, and only the rocky surface was visible from above the line of forest vegetation to the foot of the valley. Often at the base of these localities, large mounds were formed, consisting of debris, vegetable soil and trees ; the latter generally broken up in small fragments, the whole mixed with large blocks of rock. It was evident that the unusually heavy snow falls of the last winter had been the principal cause of the devastation on such an enormous scale as I never had seen it in the European Alps ; but it is very evident that, under these circumstances, these truly alpine valleys, for ordinary regular traffic, are scarcely accessible without an enormous outlay. Friday, December 19. —We arrived at last at our old camping ground. During the first night an avalanche, apparently of more than ordinary dimensions, fell in our neighbourhood. The sound accompanying it was, in the first instance, like the firing of a great many guns of great calibre, or like a loud peal of thunder, followed by rattling sounds lasting for several minutes, resembling the platoon fire of an army. The first crash was, without doubt, produced by the main fall of the avalanche, whilst the latter was the effect of smaller masses of snow and rocks being brought down in its trail. After another day of heavy rain, I started on the 21st of December towards the glacier at the head of the valley, and, although keeping all along on the eastern side of the river, the small torrents on that side were sometimes swollen to such an extent that they were difficult to cross. The more we approached the terminal face the more impetuous became the rush of water ; but soon an impediment of more serious nature presented itself in the form of an enormous avalanche, which lay across the whole valley, and through which the turbid waters of the Hopkins had already eaten a subterranean channel, forming a cave over which the river formed an arch. We climbed up about eighty feet high to the surface of that remarkable avalanche, which was nearly a quarter of a mile long, and found on it good travelling ground. There were numerous fragments of rocks lying among the snow, and remains of the vegetation of the higher alpine localities torn away from their lofty abode. The descent into the river bed was far more difficult, the avalanche being here greatly destroyed and underwashed by the waters of the river, which, without doubt, had been dammed up for some time, so that we could not descend directly into the valley, but had to take to the rocky mountain side, which was separated from the snow wall by a yawning crevice, across which we had to jump. Also, the last few miles of the valley to the main glacier impressed upon my mind the fact, even should there be an available pass, that it would be impracticable for the greater part of the year, owing to its gorgelike character, heavy snow-falls, floods, and avalanches.

Being occupied with an examination into the auriferous character of the rooks, I had an opportunity to become still better acquainted with the ruggedness of these moun-

tains by ascending several of them to a considerable altitude.

The weather, which for a few days had been favourable, began again to be very bad; heavy rain showers, accompanied by mild temperature, which melted the snow in the higher regions, brought almost continual freshes in the river; but as our provisions began to fail, we started on the 27th of December for our return, the river still being very high. Travelling on the eastern side of the river, and unable to cross it in the gorge, owing to its swollen condition, we had to seek our way over the first great moraine, which gave us some trouble, owing to the luxuriant alpine vegetation growing here, often consisting of a dense uass of gigantic spear grasses, the pricking of their sharp bayonets soon having covered with blood the extremities of horses and men. As the river below that moraine is setiing ngainst a rocky wall, over which a

passage with horses was impossible, I searched for a ford to the western side, where, though not without danger, we could continue our journey ; but we were nearly stopped by the two tributaries coming from Mount Ward, which we had formerly passed so easily. They were now so rapid and high that the horses had the greatest difficulty to make a stand against their current, and, only after repeated attempts, I brought at last my party over.

It was not until the 30th December that we reached again lake Ohou, having been obliged to cross the main river below the third western tributary several times, which delayed us considerably. When camped high up the river, we could observe that the clouds were broken towards the lake, blue sky often appearing through the mist around us in that direction, and, in fact, the weather had been fine and sunny in those lower regions during the greater part of our absence. I have been induced to give these extracts to show that the valleys of the Ohou are true alpine valleys, and that the character of tho mountain chains exclude the possibility of nnuing here an accessible pass to the west. u I may remark that this conclusion was confirmed during m y exploration of tho i f A,,l,rir i Hunter. Hn.,u « l l t° ad of the river tho con,in„L 6 oaster " brftnc ' l of the alpine n Mnn!f P M Sen ! eil th ° "t«PCndoUB inaSSCS twJS m Nft P»leon, which is situated beFromthlnv! Ward and Mount Brewster. !Lm T . Vlew obtlline(l from that mi mR 'n' 1 ' tl °, oonclll »<on was forced XrLJ rtn ui lns ftt t,,e I,eild <>' the Clarke, Landsbornugh, and the other western and north-western tributaries of the river ITaast, would from their abrupt character offer serious obstacles to a descent intothei,' valleys, even could they easily be awonded from the side of the Hopkins river These notes are of fa r orpntn,. at first I anticipated they would be when beginning to answer y our inquiries • but T thought that, in order to the information m »ny possession, it was necessary to g.ve some details on the country under review. 3

I have tho honour to be, Sir Your most obedient servant Jfluus Haast, Provincial Geologist. The Secretary for Public W»rki.