A TRIP IN THE COUNTRY.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1157, 4 May 1894, Page 29

A TRIP IN THE COUNTRY.

[from our masterton correspondent.] At the invitation of a friend I had a drive out to Ahiaruhe, the well-known property of Mr H. R, Bunny, the other afternoon. The weather was all that could bo desired, the autumn sun coniine: out in all the glory of a midsummer day and tiying as it were to make amends for the chilliness of the previous night’s frost. The country looked splendid, and gave a slight indication what it will be half a century hence, when the “ unborn millions ” will d-t the wide expanse of the Wui.arapa plain with homesteads embowered in orchards, and surrounded by vineyards, for it is believed by many that the climate and soil of the district are

well adapted to the cultivation of many products which have contributed to the wealth of France aud Italy. If such a change is to be effected, it will no doubt bo due in a great measure to the natural growth of tho population, resulting in a subdivision of the holdings among members of the family, and also by force of circumstances, as it will be found that the growing of wool and mutton cannot be carried on successfully in competition with the, at present, undeveloped region* of South America and probably Africa. Without at all attempting to don the mantlo of tho prophet and peer into the misty future, one cannot help foreseeing for tho fruitful plain of the Wairarapa a time of great progress and \ rosperily—a prosperity which will not fall far short of the Campagna in the hey-day of its glory. In fact it need not be considered a dream or a poet’s hallucination to say that this district will bo reckoned tho garden of New Zealand within a generation or two. The road which wo traversed from Masterton towards Gladstone passes over a miniature kind of tableland, the soil of which appears very dry and evidently requiring an abnormal amount of moisture in summer time. Such land, if subjected to the hot and scorching winds which blow periodically ovor the Canterbury plains, would be, comparatively speaking, of very little value. Even now, to the inexperienced observer, it seems to afford but very poor feed for sheep in many place*, but; this is a great mistake, for if you make enquiries you will be informed that some of the best finished-off animals to -be found in the local aaleyards are raised here. My informant told me that some of tho most uninviting paddocks we passed were equal to feeding two sheep to tho acre. A matter which strikes one most forcibly, when going through this part of the Colony, is the absence of Jive fences, posts and wire being principally used. This method of fencing is said to cost less than thorn and gorae, which are so common in the South Island, requires no annual outlay for trimming at does tho live fence, and economises the land. Tho mildness of the winter, too, does not require that live fences should bo planted for shelter, whilst thorn fence*, in consequence of being attacked by blight, have turned out in the majority of cases an absolute failure. We passed many comfortable-looking home* steads snugly sheltered in plantations of evergreens, which reminded one of the substantial residences of yeomen in the Home countries. To the right of us, a*

ire sped along, wo saw the well kept property of Mr Skey, and further on the residence of the into Mr Gray, so well known as a breeder of Romney sheep. Wo had a glance too, at Messrs Perry Brea’ noted Lincolns. After a timo wo dipped from tho tableland towards the Talley of tho Rumahunga. Looking towards th® north and east our view was bounded by tho low-lying liills which comprise tho well known run of Mr W. C. Buchanan. To our loft lay tho township of Gladstone, and to tho right across tho Rumahunga, nestled in a line plantation of European trees, and sheltered from ihc north and oast by tho adjacent bills, and on the west by a tine bolt of native fciixi- or, was tho residence of Mr 11. Bunny. The rivor was on its best behaviour. The ray 3 of ill* warm afternoon sun struck obliquely on its waters in the deep reaches, or danced an 1 scintillated joyously on tho wavelets of tho fords. What » contrast to tho timo when iho winter floods came tearing and rushing along from their h me in tho ranges, threatening destruction to cattle, bridges, and all kinds of property and bearing down from the bush-fringed banka of the river huge fcrce3, and debris of divers sorts. Soon after crossing tlie river our road lay along the valuablo property of Mr Bunny, where t!:o lowing milch cows and tho timid sheep appeared to revel in the luxuriant pasture. Ahiaruhe is a typical New Zealand estate, uith its substantial and comfortable resuhnev, woolshcd, dairies, cattle byres, stables, and creamery, and cheese factory in the distance. My frioiul having got through hi 3 business, and aftor haying a look at tho cattlo and sheep ,*6 received an invitation to dinner —an invitation which waa extended with that hospitality for which Mr and Mrs Bunny are distinguished, and ns it was backed up by an appetite created by a pleasant drive, we gladly accepted. But all things must come to an end, and so once more wo find ourselves with the horses’ head towards Masterton. The harvest moon lit up the scene with almost tho brightness of a winter’s sun, and wo had no great difficulty iu negotiating the Rumahunga on whose placid iva'ers the beams of tho heavenly lamp fell with a silvery sheen. All nature waa at rest. The scone waa one for the painter’s brush. On our right lay the bills variegated here and there with patches cf native timber, dark shadows chasod each other over the valley as floecy clouds lazily crossed the faco of tho moon, tho quiet homestead picturesquely situatod, the phlegmatic cattle masticating the food picked up during the day, the frightened sheep with beads erect, wondering very likely in their own peculiar way at our presence there at that hour, a timid rabbit crossir.g in front of us and quickly disappearing in tho underwood —all this made up a scene which could not fail to impress the most prosaic mind in this material ago. After a couple of hours’ drive wo reached Masterton, well pleased with tho outing, firmly convinced from what wo had seen that although poets may sing about tho beauties of Italy and tourists rave about the scenery of Switzerland, still our own Colony can, without exaggeration, lay claim to the title of “God’s own country," which our gonial poet lauroato has bo ftptly app ied to it.