THE LEADER EXPEDITION IN FIORDLAND.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 10417, 20 July 1895, Page 2

THE LEADER EXPEDITION IN FIORDLAND.

fir MALCOLM ROSS, .N.Z.A.C

Oa a dull Winter morning towards the ertd of April, having seen provisions, tents, sleeping bigs, ice axes, Alpine rope, and the hundred and one odds and ends necessary for an expedition into ■ unexplored mountainous country safely stored in the baggage .van of the southern express .train, the members of The Leader expedition', 10 in number, took their seats in the compartment reserved for them, the old hands - burying themselves in their morning paper, and the new ones sposulating about the'weather and the prospects of the trip geserally. • It was originally arranged th*t we should proceed by sea to the West 'Coast Sounds, the Government of New 'Zealand having placed their steam yacht Hinemoa at our disposal, but owing to storms in the north and other causes our craft was likely to be late in putting in an appearance, so at the eleventh hour ail our plan3_wera altered, and we decided to proceed overland. A train journey of eighfc hours' takes us to Lumsdon, and nest morning, comfortably seated in two of Crosbie's coaches, we are fairly started on our journey to Fiordland.

For some 12 or 15 niiles the road is good, and as we cross the Oreti river and bowl along th^ flatsin the^diie^tion of we. have time to take a leisurely look at our ■ surroundings. The mountains begin to close sin. around us, and away ia the north-west the Eyre Peaks, which have already donned their winter robes, flash ia the' •-■ morning -sunlight. Close on- our ri<>-ht the massive form of the West Dome rises from the plain. For miles and miles of -the journeys we see it Jowering up, •at first; ahead, then abreastfand later behind,us.: At Gautre Hill we/Kalt .to change horse?, and: get -a pear.view of Mount Hamilton, the end of the Tak^imu Riugfe. > Iskitima, was the name of o%':-of the canoes in which! according to tradi-i tipu, the Maoris cams to. New: Zealand 'froia the! distant islands of the South Seas. /This papoe' they have £it, was turned into stone, and its sails now form the; plain: tHrqugh- which flow the/Five.'Bive'is some 20 miles distent.: The pro-' cess of mythologicallreasoninglby which the Maoris turneel Jheir canoe into the' rocky!Tavkitinros and its sails into a plain is not apparent to a casualtduri6t; \but the mountains are there still, and very fine they look: top, as) having slowly ascended the saddle at tK^head of the Wey'don' Burn; and made a. brisk run down to the i level country of the, -Mararoa; Valley, we take' a nearer- md more critical look at theit dark gulUes' and serrated peakis. A cold wind has pursued us all the morning; and the blazing fire, of bog pine, the sweet roas^' mutton,- and the' cream shd^ other delicacies ■ at ■Bench's Key Hotel are sill the more, welcome, since we meet with them an hour bayqnd our custoniary luncheon \ time. Thirty-six miles from Lumaden we cross the Effararoa river, and ienter upon a strange-looking piece of. country, known as ■r The Wilderness." The gravel of', an old lake bed shows through the scanty soil, where clumps of bog pine struggle for a bare existence. The road now rises over undulating country, and ahead we get - a nearer . view , of. the western mountains—Titoroa to the south of Manapouri, with its crown of coral moss that seems like ne?rlj r fallen snoWjjformiDg a distinctiye feature m the landscape; . We pass the homestead of Lynwood 'station, embowered in a clump of native bush, on our righ'tj and startle a flock of Paradise duck—a hundred, or more—in the tarnip ; fields; on our left. Ahead,'beybnd the western shores, of Te Anau, the mountain tops are high in the clouds. Ths. barometer is low, and as the coaches pull up in the gloaming' in front of: SnoagrassV comfortable hotel bn the south-eastern: snore of the lake, a, cold rain is steadily falling.. ' ; ';'. ' .';;■'." 'V;: "V " ' ,'.■' ■' ■■ On the morning., of Wednesday, the 24th April, we are early astir, but by the time we have conveyed our provisions and bamp fbanga to the lake, steamer.and! taken a few photographs it is close upon 10 .o'clock'. The whole population of the little township of Marakura, consisting of three or four men and two women, turnout to see us off. As we leave the jetty and head up the lake, Captain Duricaiiy an artist who-has'taken up bis quarters in these wilds, dips the red ensign from the flagstaff m of his bungalow, the engineer: sounds his whistle, the explorers respond with a lasty cheer, and The Leader expedition, fairly launched upon it 3 journey, steers for the dim fastnesses of Kakapo and Kiwi land. We have been warned about the dangers of exploration so late in the season,-of snowstorms on the pass and heavy rains aridflooded rivers on the Milford side; bat we have breasted swollen river's before now; we have, camped under a rockby the side- of a glacier; and weathered a storm at the Mount Cook Bivouac, where the thunder shook ,the tottering ridge; so we are cofc.going to be deterred by anything that Fiordland, is likely to produce in the way of ' storms at the beginning of winter. " And so, not giving the, forebodings of our. friends a second thought, we begin to' form bur first impressions' of Te Anau. In spitd'of rain and wind we are a jolly crew, and' an ' occasional chorus floats across the waters. Passing the South Fiord of the lake we get a momentary glimpse of sunshine, and some fine spo w-capped mountains ahead enchain bur attention. Llown the South Fiord; all is gloom, and ahead the clouds are hanging lot? on i the more distant mountains. We pass Garden Point, where, beside 'a small clearing, bordered by'a gently-shelving beach' lapped by the light green waters of the lake, nestling among tb.e Blender beech trees, is poor Quintin M'Kinnon's hut, tenantless and lonely. ,'.'"' The clouds come lower down the. shoulders of the mountains, and we muse awhile on the majesty and the mysterious pasb of Lake Te Anau. What mighty force has made this vast basin into which the waters of the hills have rolled ? It is a popular belief that it has been scooped out by glacier action. But no glacier ever chiselled out of these hard granite rocks so deep a lake bed. Certain it is that a great glacier once occupied the basin of Te Anau. and stretched beyond fax down the valley of the Waiau ; plain, too, from the morainic boulders on the fringes of "The Wilderness" that the glacier at one time ended not far from the present lake bed ; butthe idea that it carved out this bed is ludicrous in the extreme. The great glaciers at Mount Cook move at the rate of about half an inch a day, and, notwithstanding their press of moraine and their softer schistose beds, they have, daring the ages of their existence, scooped out no deep lake beds descending below sea level. The old glaciers of Te Anau, 'lowing down an almost level valley, would move more Blowly still, there would be a comparative absence of moraine, and the erosive action of the ice on their hard granite bads would be reduced to a minimum. They might polish slowly, but they certainly would not scoop out this vast chasm of Lake Te Anau had the ice age of which they formed a part extended back to the beginning of the'world. " Try," says one of the keenest observers of the age, "to saw a piece of marble through (with edge oi iron, not of soppy ice, for saw, and with sharp flint sand for felspar slime), and move your saw at the rate of an inch in threequarters of an hour, and see what lively and progressive work you will make of it!" And

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tins, I think, puts the ease in a nutshell. "The great forces of nature which, either by upheaval or snbskienca (or both), gra<!na.l or sud<3en,_formed thseedesp lake bedis and vast mountain chains seem, therefore, all the more wonclerfol'and mysterious. ...... . Afi&tben from the dim geological past; the mind tarns and musosoa tho historic, and thinks of the days whan tha swarthy aoufcheru Maori encamped by the lake side grubbed the edible fern roob, or—in tho absence of a war—cunningly baitsd bis eel pats in view of & change in the moaotony of a vegetable diet. For some years-..ib was thought tbat; a remnant of ■ the Ngatimatuoe tribe ' might still exist in the mountain fastnesses of Fiordlaud, but. there can be no doubt now that the marauding tribes from the Bast Coast practically annihilated them', and that' the eel pot 3 and fire sticks, the old skull with '.the teeth gnarled from chewing the fern root, aud the*mem and other relics from the anoient battle grounds, dug up by Mitchell—oometime of Mauapouri station —and others, are all that remain, besides tradition, to tell the story of the former inhabitants of Msinapouri and Te Auau.

Bnt soon Rgain our thoughts return to the present, as we find our little' craft heading iv shore, and noto the rattle of billy and pannikin that prssages lunch. The steamer finds anchorage almost within reach, of the treefringed shore, and we land in the "flatty" that wa have been toxins; astern all the morning. There under the tall beech trees we build a grsat log lire, aud, all unheeding of the gristly falling rain, boil the billy and enjoy our nisi camp meal. Some kakas and a stray wood pigeon fly overhead, a New Zealand thrush, wicu rasset'tail, hops in the branches of a shrub near at hand, aud a confiding wren comes along to mnke friends with us and peck the crumbs that fall at onr feet. Au hour flies quickly, the remains of tho feast are. stowed away, the " flatty " makes two or three short voyages, aud then the. steamer Ripple once more 6teums proudly on her way, the captain getting' peremptory . directipns from the chief and only engineer as to how he should steer. It looks very blank ahead, T and opposite the Middle Fiord, where there is a stiffish bresze, the white-crested waves are chasing one another down the lake. We pass Centre Isiaud, and have a bid hour and a-hal? in the troubled watero. The artist and the poetess, sad to say—probably owing to their super-senaitive organisations—are leaning mournfully over tho lee side. Their troubles, however, are soon over, for once past tha Middle Fiocd we regain the smooth water, and steam quickly along the western shore under the shartosv of the great forest-clad mountains. The cold, heavy ram bsats .relentlessly down upon us with a final burst, and then slowly ceases. Ou the left, high in heaven, a Bnowclad peak rends the clouds asunder with startling suddenness, and vanishes again beneath, its asheu drapery. Then other peaks come out, and in the breaking storm , the majestic grandeur of the .scene is slowly revealed. The walled summits close in upon us as we proceed; the cold night air dissipates the swirling mists, the stars steal out one by one, and the serrated edges of the mountains on either hand are silhoustted against the evening sky as our vessel puffs along. Narrower and narrower becomes tho lake, and as wo round the final turn the blackness of the water and tbe towering precipices ahead seam to be luriag us to destruction. Tho captain and the engineer exchangaorders, but there ia no slackening of speed. aud t just as'fche doctor, who has beon stationed in the bow as a look-out, is straining his eyes in 'a hopsless effort to fathom the Cimmerian darkWssJ the vessal goes full tilt on to a shingly be&cb. and we find ourselves suddenly at the end of our journey, and, as the engineer remarked to the captain, "in a devil of a place." Luckily no damage is done, and we have only miesed- the propar landing—a shelving, sandy beach—by about half a dozen yards. The men scramble over the' bows and step ashore, ankle-daep in water, the ladies are carried from the side, and then swags and. provisiens are quickly transferred from the steamer and up a shoit bush path to the hut near by. A roaring fire is soon ■blazing up the spacious log chimney, and then tbe expedition settles down to discuss the pannikins of steaming hot tea and the liberal camp bill-of-fare that the self-appointed cooks—the doctor's wifa and the poetess—have spread on the iough bush table for our delectation.

Nest morning at 10 o'clock theoverland party, seven in number, start off with heavy. swags for the half-way hub in the Ciiuton Valley, leavirfg the artist with the doctor and his wife to proceed on a photographic picnic round the lake in the sbe&mer. Ifc.is a glorious day. The track winds round the base of a.ctffi through the splendid beech forest; with its wonderful, mosses and lichens. Above,is the blae sky and ahead the snowy' mountains. The geologist, probably philosophising on same palsßzoic; problem/ loses his way and wanders off on a different track. As ha does not join us, I become a little concerned regarding his safety, so, dropping my swag, I hurry back a mile or so in search of him.; I find, however, that he has 'taken the river .'irackj! and raustnow ba ahead of me. Regaining aiy burden, I plod along by myself, silently noting tlis ;beautiful mountain mist effects, moralising on the gentle art of swagging, and. thinking what, .a fool a man is to turn himself v need-; lessly into a beast of burden. Have you ever, gentle reader1, carried a 601b swag for 10 or 11 miles through the New Zealand bush or over the great moraine of a Mount Cook glacier on a sweltering summer day ? No. . V7ell tbea it is difficult, nay impossible, for yon to enter into the feelings of an amateur " drummer" towards the close, of his ficst day's swagging. I know it is generally supposed that I am a great, big Highlander, with kilts and a red beard, and that swagging has no terrors for me; instead of which I am a slim, delicate-looking mortal of only lOsb 51b, not much bigger than my own swag, and wont on every expedition that I undertake to vow that on the next I shall nob carry a pound. . Aad so on this warm afternoon, as I plodded along by myself, and the relentless wwag straps settled down into myshoulderSj my burden,'instead pf being only 601b seemed 160 ! Bat swagging, like most other mundane things, mast have an end, and the welcome sight of the. blue smoke wreaths of the midway hut, curling above the trees early in, the afternoon, and the pleasurable anticipation of satisfyinga healthy buah appetifcs, once more reduced ray swag to its normal weight, and I felt at peace with men.

The views of river ana .forest along tha valley so far were sufficiently lovely to make one linger at every torn. The dear waters of the Clinton river, beautifully green in tint, flowed on in a series of rapids aud gently whirling pools, that anon gave place to quiet reaches,, at the bottom of which the trout swam lazily, and fondly imagined themselves) unsean. The views of Mount. Mackenzie and Mount Anau—snow-crowned—had also claimed a due share of attention on the morning march, and seemed in harmony with tho peaceful scenes around us. Now, however, the valley began to clo^e in and the mountains to assume a wilder aspect—the precipices of Mount O'Rourke towering up on the one hand, aud the great granite walls of Mount Nicholas rising abruptly on the left a short distance bejoad the camp. "We spent the rest of the afternoon .photographing, two of the party going back to the hut at the head of Lake Te Anau to bring up additional swags of provisions on the morrow. : •'■•■■

We spent a jolly night in the hut, making a great fire of beech logs in the capacious fireplace; eating and drinking as only amateur swagsmen can after their first day's work; playing cards; telling tales, wise and otherwise; enjoying ourselves to our heart's content, and not caring one jot how the world wagged outside. ■■■■':,=

In the morniDg the mists were low in the valley, but the blue sky overhead arid the clear mountain top's gave promise of 8 fine day; so once more after breakfast we shouldered our swags'and marched bravely forward! Leaving the clearing at the hut, we followed the track through the forest, past the ruins of an old camp, up a sidling, and then down a zig-zag ladder path into the valley again, occasionally crossing a creek on a rustic bridge fashioned from a fallen tree, or marchiug in siDgle file over the stepping logs that have been laid crosswise, over the path in marshy places. • The summit of a noble peak on our right towered above the mists, and a gleam of sunlight lit up the anows of a near neighbour. On par left was auothsc fine rocky peak, at which the monntaineers of fcHe party often casi longing -glances; -We halted on an ojjen space at the side of the valley, where a*fine waterfall came down over a high granite cliff; The view from this point down the valley was one from which we turned away reluctantly. Black, rocky peaks towered on either hand, and far away, over a foreground of graceful, feathery toi-tois and sombre forest, one fine peak, snow-olad, rose in the centre of the valley. Ahead the valley narrowed in, and the . rock "walls seemed more precipitous. The track wound round a bend in the river, then through a clump of beautiful ribbon-wood treeo —from the branches of which two orange wattle crows peered out at the intruders—and on once more into the sombre beech forest. For two or three miles now we had to trudge through soft snow that covered the path,,so that at length when we came on to a steep pinch and had to wend onr way amongst the rough granite blocks for the last mile, our swags again taegan to be a burden. It was on the whole, however, an easy day's j work, and but for the Bwags and the snow wo should have mads light of it. At length tho trumpeting of paradise ducks near us on the right indicated that Lake Miutaro was close at hand, and at 2.30 p.m. we came suddenly upon the hut, situate iv a lovely spot at ths end of the little lake that lies almost at the foot oE M.'Kinnon's Pass. We shovelled away the snow from the door and boiled the billy for lunch, after which two of the party returned to the halfway camp to come on with the others next morning with a further supply of provisions. (To be continued.)

hosijteir «c? not. He (the chairman) .thought; ib was one of those cases that were really for the Benevolent Institution. . An ,, attempt was made to get him admitted to the, asylum, but Mr Carew did not; thick he,Bb.o;uld he sens there.—: The lettar was .received, the trustees endorsing what the doctor had said. ~

far leave of absence, from Dr Lindo Ferguson ■'.and'- Dr■ Batchalor were approved., ~ ~'■ '.. .- ( .

EECKPTION Ol? DEAD BODIES.

Mr Wills, at the close of! the meeting, drew attention to a bill before Parliament, introduced by Major Steward, the, Daember for Waitakii which made it compulsory on ihq hospital authorities to receive all dead bodies into the hospital. He thought tu*t thpse of them who knew anything about the hospital would see that this was . fraught with a great deal oE danger. In the event of a body being received at tne hospital, the; trustees" would have to isolate anyone brought into contact wifcb. it for some time after. He-thought a petition should' b8 drawn up and presented to Earliamenb oppoein? the meaaurK. If' the bodies were brought to the hospital, who, he' asked, was to receive anu handle them.? , The porfcei!s would have to receive and handle them, ancT it would be almost necessary to send thesa men away for a time before they would, be able to go about their work again. More assistants would mean more expense. V It was particularly in the cases where bodies had, been in the water a long time that danger' would arisen He thought a statement of the matter should be made to Parliament.

Mr Myers's sympathies were very much with the hotelkeepers, who had to take in the bodies when they were brought TSo their hotels.

Mr Carroli, thought that if tfce trustees objected to the proposal they should suggest what shonld be done.

The Chairman said if it was agreed to place a morgue oa the hospital grounds there should be some person to look specially after it, because a panic might arise, Bay in the case of a number of bodies being brought in from a fire, aud it would be uecsssary fco prevent parents and friends taking possession, as they once did, of the hospital. There were a lot of points to bs considered in having a morgue in a place lika the hospital grounds. After some discussion, in which it was pointed out that the receiving of bodies in the hospital would be a shock to patients aud likely to upset them, it was resolved, on the motion of Mr Wills—" That the matter he remitted to the House Committee to prepare and present to Parliament a petition setting out the danger that would arise if employees in the hospital were compelled to rsceive and handle bodies brought into the morgue, especially bodies in a state of decomposition."