ON THE NIHOTUPU RANGES

New Zealand Herald, Volume L, Issue 15482, 13 December 1913, Page 1 (Supplement)

ON THE NIHOTUPU RANGES

•BY LAWAY BURNS.' I wake in the eai'iy dawn of the summer morning, when the first streaks of light are stealing over the, hills. Through the open door of the bungalow the voice of the moro. pork is heard,, with its persistent call, "Morepork! Morcpork!" Then the tui sings his melancholy, pathetic call, mourning for tho day when he could roam through the bush at will, with no human being to disturb him. For the moment I wonder where I am, and listen for the familiar sounds of carts rattling along the road. Nothing but the songs of the wakening birds break the stillness, except perhaps the tinkling cow-bolls that one hears now and again. Then, I remember, lam up, in on the top of the ranges, away from the bustle and fret of town life. In an hour or so hundreds and thousands in Auckland city will bo beginning again the daily treadmill. Here the aims and desires of modern life all seem so petty. In tho primeval forest one feels the vastness of Nature and one's.soul grows 'larger as one gazes. There is a grandeur about these ranges, •called Nihotupu by tho Maoris, that appeals. The word means " teeth," and the mountains are so called because of their sharp, serrated tops. Point after noint rises in sharp cones—some are still covered to tho top by tho virgin bush; others have been cleared. Standing on some of the vantage spots what a panorama is spread before us! We can see two harbours—the Manukau, on our right, lying clear and calm in the distance. Often we can near tho roar of the waves breaking in on the West Coast. It is only nine miles to the coast by a road that sometimes defies both man and beast, and certainly motor-cars. Right in front of us stretches the Waitcmata, with its endless bays and inlets. Our old friend, Rangitoto, lies away on the distant horizon, not looking so like a grim sentinel as usual, but seeming quite calm and mild in the blue, hazy distance. In the middle distance lie Henderson, Avondale, and other small townships, dotted about on the landscape, adding a touch of life to the picture. What a boon it must be to the people living up here to have that long-distance view. It i 6 restful, not only to the eyes, but to tho mind. The • long-distance view is what we miss in tho city itself. The call of the New Zealand wild is on us here, as our eyes invariably turn from the view of the two waters to the daTk, sombre green of the bush. Walking along tho road, we see a little track veering off to our left into a dark, leafy glade. We must follow it to sec where it goes. We wander along under a roof of green. The track is guarded on either side by stately tree-ferns. Some are so tall they strctcn upward ao if to reach up to the grand old forest trees. Nikaus rival them, growing side by side. Now wo como across a tall, old kauri tree, who looks down in wonder at the puny, human creatures who lean against his trunk. Side by side he stands i with rimus, kahikateas, ratas, pohutakawas, with their crimson licad-dress, throwing a splash of colour over the dark green, and hosts,of other trees; but he overtops them all, this grand old king of the bush. Now we find our track has got rather overgrown. The bush-lawyer, true to hie name, puts out his prickly feelers to catch us as we pass, and .how he hold* on! The lovely clematis, now past flowering time, hangs down a fluffy mass of snow-white balls. Creepers innumerable twine round branch or tree-trunk conveniently near. The tall and graceful lancewood reare her stately head amongst the undergrowth. Tho smaller ferns at our feet are growing in all the luxuriousness and profusion that Mother Nature knows so well how to give in these haunts of hers, unspoiled by man. What a variety there is! Have you ever noticed the different shades of green amongst the ferns? Some have such a tender tone of pale, lovely green, and others are dark and) gloomy and look liko the pessimists of the fern world. Some are so impudent and saucy and climb up the big, old trees without saying, "By your leave." You find them right up the trunk, and the poor old tree has to grin and bear it. The villain of the forest, though, is the rata. It seems so cruel to twist itself round and round a poor tree until it takes all its vitality away and takes full possession itself. There is something so meanspirited) about it not to grow its own support. It shows us Nature is not always kind, but can be cruel sometimes. Hush! what was that sound that broke the si'.cnce of tho bush? We listen and peer ahead. Then we see it is only a little fantail hopping about and looking so friendly. Then we hear the tut again. There are quite a number of them on these ranges, but they always seem afraid to let you come near enough to see them properly. We go on through the bush, and as" we proceed we hear a roaring, rushing noise. For a moment wo wonder, and then ro ' member we are on the way to the Nihotupu Falls, and it is tho sound of their mighty rushing that we hear. By and by wo come in sight of them. First we see the quiet, slow-looking stream at the top lazily flowing along. But tho current is strong, as a stick thrown in is carried swiftly to tho fall. We walk along the narrow path till we come to a spot where we can set tho first fall rushing down over tho face of tho cliff. What a sense of mystery these falls inspire! The gorge through which they rush along is so very narrow. The opposite side towers up, it seems, to the sky, covered right to the top with huge trees, tree-ferns, and all the other bush growth. It looks as if there is at all events one place unconquered by man. It is such an eerie, desolate, wild, lonely spot! Not a sound is heard but the roaring of the water. And yet these falls are helping to supply water to the inhabitants of our city. Their energy is harnessed :o provide water for people who, I suppose, never even wonder where the water comes from when it flows out of tho tap in their kitchen. The people of Auckland aro beginning to appreciate their lovely hills. So many people havo little summer cottages now dotted here and there. We are beginning to feci the benefit of breathing in the pure, clear, wholesome air of the ranges. Why, tho air up on these heights thrills ont's very being. It is liko a powerful tonic, and should drive away all the cobwebs and town dust from us. Nature must have guided our pioneers better than they knew when they put their city within reach of tho mountains. It is just what Auckland needs in tho long, hot summer— breath of the pure mountain air to cleanse them, body and soul, and bring them nearer heaven.