THROUGH THE BULLER.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVI, Issue 20288, 22 June 1929, Page 1 (Supplement)

THROUGH THE BULLER.

BEFORE THE EARTHQUAKE.

■BY ELSIE K. MORTON.

Strango it seems that within tlie brief period of three months two of Now Zealand's most famous scenic routes, the Otira Gorgo and tho Buller, should have been tho centre of earthquake disturbances !

At tho timo of writing, little is known of tho damage wrought in tho Buller Gorge, but it is certain that landslides and avalanches have worked havoc with that beautiful mountain road, and it will be some days before service cars are again running through tho Gorge, the only outlet from Wcstport to Nelson and Canterbury. .

On a bright autumn morning, a couple of months ago, I set out on tho 200-mile trip from Hokitika to Nelson, by way of Buller Gorge Tho first stage, Hoki tika to Greymouth, about 30 miles, was by train " Take a magazine," advised a friend. " There's nothing to see." But there was. There was a glorious vision of tho Southern Alps, 100 miles distant, curving back from tlio sea, in shining snow-barrier, and towering over land and sea, dominating earth and sky, _ the majestic peaks oi Cook and Tasman, rising like vast ico temples in tho clouds. Set besid'' the sea, just outside Hokitika, we passed wha' must surely be the tiniest, jolliest little railway station in all New Zealand, about as big as a motor packing case, with its jolly little name, " Ho Ho," painted boldly on three sides —and on the* back, too, for all I could tell. One sincerely hopes that Ho Ho :s still chuckling there beside the sea! In the Mining District.

An afternoon at Greymouth brought opportunity for a motor run out to The Seven Mile, on the beach, through the heart of one of the principal coal mining districts of Westland. A- branch railway runs through Runanga and Dunoliie, where miners are reported this week to have experienced some remark able escapes from death in the hillside mines But on that quiet autumn morn ing no thought of earthquake horror dis turbed tho serenity of quiet little Dunoliie, with its handful of cottages, blinking beneath the morning sun, or of Runanga itself, a township set close beneath steep, coal-seamed mountain sides, rather grim, with that indefinable hint of austerity, that dark, brooding look that seems to belong to all mining townships Later in the day, on tho railway trip from Greymouth to Reefton, we passed Brunner, backed with heavy bush and steep cliffs, with dark openings of the coal shafts in the rock face of tho mountains, ano Grey River swirling deep and swift beside tho railway track. . Here again the grim, black look ... as though the shadow of impending tragedy lay ever on those townships beneath the hills, where men's lives are spent in the black depths, and tho hazard of death and disaster is accepted as part of the day's routine. Into Buller Gorge. Tho night was spent at Reefton, and soon aftej.' eight o'clock next morning the service car set out on the 138-mile run up to Nelson. At Inangahua, where tho road branches to Westport, we got our first glimpse of the Buller. For 28 miles the road followed the course of the river to Westport, through splendid bush and mountain scenery. The road was cut in tho overhanging cliffs, the most beautiful and spectacular feature of the trip being Hawkes' Crag, a jutting, perpendicular rock face, the road a narrow nicho hewn frqm the solid rock, with a precipice falling sheer to the river.. Then the road dived into a tunnel, through a magnificent fern arch, with drooping ferns and creepers weaving a green-laced canopy up the sides and over the entrance. Vistas of beauty opened up at every turn—and surely there never was a road with more twists and turns than this road beside tho Buller!

The northern end of Buller Gorge opens out at Inangahua, and the 36-mile run up to Murchison, centre of the earthquake area, was through splendid birch forests .and mountain scenery Twelve miles from Inangahua, the road ran steoply down A forest-clad spur, across the river, and into Lyell— poor littlo out-at-'elbows Lyell—whose fate at the moment of writing is still unknown.' Lyell, lying in the very heart of tho Buller Gorge, perched on a precipitous mountain slope, _ was once a prosperous mining town with 3,000 inhabitants. Its present population is probably less than thirty. A very picture of desolation was Lyell that autumn morning, with crazy old buildings by tho roadside tumbling down to the gorge, over-run with black berry growing high as tho roof-tops, forlorn, forgotten, yet still picturesque in its wonderful setting of mountain, forest and river.

On and on through tho gorge, with tho small-leafed birch making a long green aisle, lit by slanting golden v sunbeams. Through the screen of birch boughs, we glimpsed the hazy blue mountains, long spurs of gold-green birch forests reaching down to the rugged cliffs and silvered, swirling rapids of tho river. Tho roadside banks were draped with ferns and mosses, and golden-brown rivulets came dashing down across our tra.;k. Unforgettably beautiful was the Buller Gorge that morning, with bell birds singing in the trees, and tho cicadas chanting tho last long song of summer. All too soon tho splendid birch forests passed, and were in country sadly reminiscent of the North, miles of barren hills and coarse bracken, never seen in South Westland. Stricken Murchison. Then we were out of the hills and into tho fertile farming country round about Murchison —poor, stricken Murchison, so peaceful, basking there in sunshine boneath the hills that autumn morning! And now the very foundations of tho earth have collapsed, the hills themselves have been torn asunder, and Murchison is a place of death, and direst tragedy. Just outside Murchison, wo crossed the junction of the Longford and Buller Rivers, whoso pent up waters are now an added peril to tho shattered town. Into the lovely scenery of the Owen and Hope Valleys we passed, with tho river shining in wide reaches of rippling amber beneath tho birch groves. Soon we reached the spot, a few miles bevond Kpwatiri. where the building of the Nelson-West Const railway is m progress; workmen's tents and cottages in ordered rows on the hillsides, gangs of men blasting awav the river cliffs, dietging deep into the hills to build the new road which is to run beside tho railway. Most beautiful is this section of the Mtifchisnn-Nelson road, so lately traversed by hundreds of unfortunate refugees from the earthquake area! Tho beauty of Glenhppe Valley gave place to bare hills, rising to tho heigths of the Hope Saddle, 1200 ft., a road of wonderful engineering, with hiirpin bends and a hair-raising grade that brought us swiftly to the summit, and a magnificent panorama of wooded mountains, rising tier upon tier to the snow-capped peaks of the Sn ( ence> Range. Far below lay the fertile bills and valleys of Sunny Nelson. Motupiko, the Waimea Plains, and away on the distant horizon, tho faint blue glimmer of the j sea. ... as fair a picture of a pros-

perous. peaceful land a* en# could find in all New Zealand.