OUR HOMELAND.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 20472, 25 January 1930, Page 4 (Supplement)

OUR HOMELAND.

BY ELSIE E. MOHTON

CHRISTCHURCH, CITY OF THE PLAINS.

THE STORY OF AKAROA. The shining rim of the Alps lay far behind on the western horizon; the Silver Plane was passing over the great fertile expanse of tho Canterbury Plains. Viewed from above, the landscape was one of soft green, gold, and brown —the ripening grain and rich pasture lands, with long, straight lines of hedges and belts of trees giving the countrysido tho aspect of a scene in rural England. As far as (he eye could reach stretched tho level expanse of tho plains, a new and wonderful sight to Pixie and Pat, accustomed to the broken country, the hills and valleys of tho North Island.

Soon the Cathedral City, Christchurch, with its tall spires, fine buildings, and broad, busy streets, lay beneath, the silver thread of tho river Avon dividing it in two parts. .A splendid expanse of green, lined with dark avenues of trees, •aas pointed out to tho children as lJagley Park, and the picturesquo Botanical Gardens on the banks of tho river, glowing with summer flowers, were pointed out. as another feature of interest.

"Oil! The beautiful arch—look!" cried Pixie, as the Plane approached tho " What is it

" That is the Bridgo of Remembrance, Canterbury's memorial to all those who gave their lives in the Groat War. It is considered to bp one of the most beautiful memorials in the Empire." And majestic, indeed, was the great white arch, simple yet noble in design, its brief inscription, " Bridgo of Remembrance," reminding all passers-by of the devotion and sacrifice of the men who had marched across tho Avon and later on laid down their lives in the grim and terrible adventure of war.

As tho Piano slowly circled the city, the guide told tho voyagers something of the history of Christchurch, City of the Plains, founded in 1850 by the Canterbury Association. Over the bleak and barren Port Hills, that lie between tho plains and tho sea, came tho forerunners of the pilgrim band who laid tho foundation of the beautiful and prosperous city of to-day. Rough and difficult was the narrow trail, the route of which can be traced to-day, and many hardships were suffered by tho men and women of eighty years ago. who with weary feet plodded their way over tho sleep hills now piercccl by tho Lyttelton Tunnel.

Soon tho Piano was gliding over the crest of the hills, and Lyttelton Harbour, surrounded by barren, rocky peaks, lay like a flashing jewel in tho rough-hewn setting.

" Where arc wc heading for now?" asked Pat. " For Akaroa, one of the most historic and beautiful little towns in all New Zealand."

" Akaroa! Oh, I know all about Akaroa!" exclaimed Pafc eagerly. "That was the place tho French and British ships had a race for in the early days, and the British only just managed to win!" " So runs tho old story," said the guide with a smile, " but historians now say that tho matter was quite amicably arranged between British and French before Captain Stanley hoisted tho British flag on the shores of Akaroa Harbour. But tho history of Akaroa goes back much farther than tho ' forties,' when the Comto do Paris, a vessel bearing nearly sixty immigrants from France, brought the pioneer settlers to this remote part of the world. Akaroa had been known to the whalers long before the ' forties,' and in the early days there was a largo Maori population on tho shores of tho beautiful harbour, with its deep bays and wooded promontories." " Aro there any Maoris or French people in Akaroa now ?" asked Pixie.

. " There aro many descendants of tho original French families, still bearing tho old French names, but the Maori population was wiped out nqarly 100 years ago in a fearful raid bv the bloodthirsty chief Te Rauparaha. You remember my telling you of his war expeditions from Knpiti Island, on tho Wellington coast? Well, ono of these expeditions was made in vengeance for a repulse his men had suffered at Kaiapahia, now called Kaiapoi. Tho chief bribed a scoundrel in charge of a British trading brig to carry him with his warriors to Akaroa, and they fell on the tribe, who lived on a jutting promontory named Onawe, and slaughtered them all, save those whom they back as prisoners to Kapiti for a still more dreadful death by torture. It is a black pago in tho history of beautiful Akaroa, and has loft a memory that can never be forgotten."