OTAGO. PENCILLINGS BY THE WAY.

Otago Witness, Issue 283, 2 May 1857, Page 5

OTAGO. PENCILLINGS BY THE WAY.

111. POPOTUNA TO OTEItIO AND TUTURAU. " If thou art worn and hard beset With sorrows, that thou wouldst forget. If thou would.st read a lesson, that will keep Thy heart fronj fainting and thy soul from sleep, Go' to the woods and hills ! No tears Dini the sweet look that nature wears.' 1 Longfellow.

'Twas a bright sunny morning as we crossed to the east bank of the Kiiriwaho, and, turning southward, ascended the hiH which forms the east side of what is termed Popotuna gorge. A gentle refreshing breeze played around, as at the highest point of the path on the hillside we halted for a minute's breathing space. The murmur of- the brawling stream came faintly up from its rocky bed beneath, reminding us forcibly of the beautiful description of Burns— " Whyles owre a linn the burnie.plays, As thro' the glen it winipl't ; Whyles round.a rocky scar it strays, Whyles in a wiel it dimpl't ;"• whilst the precipitous hills forming the narrow:defile, with boulders scattered about as if afrrested in their- descent, suggested the unavailing en quiry " as to what < ' mighty agency had been here at work ifr>bypast ages. .' We'had no 1 time for speculation, and with one parting look at the. Clutha strath, < which lay glittering in thfe sun^we passed

onwards. , After .descending ithe^hillside we; follow the course of-' the stream .upwards; fjor. about a mile and' a, half, the gorge-gra-.-dually widening, and the. hills- sloping ijiore.. gradually- away on either side, until, after* passing- a small stripe, of a peajty bog be-, twixt us. and the stream, we .see, a gentle>ascent of some three-quarters of a mile in, length stretching away to our righ£ on the. side of the stream. Mere werecross to the .west side, and take leave of' the Kuriwaho, najt, however, without re-, gretling our want of geological knowledge* - which might havre afforded us some inform ■ roation regarding the curious dykes of trap* 1 rock which at various places cross the bed; of the stream. Proceeding up the gentle.. , ascent we have men tioned > and shortly after*. , attaining its highest point, we obtain a, view of our further course. Before us liest a wide vailey or plain or ridgy hollow (forit partakes to some extent of each of these. > characters) running parallel to the Clutha strath, bounded on the one side by the "Wairuna range and its continuations* and on the other by high ranges of a broken craggy outline. Looking angularly across, this valley, we can just discern the appeaix ance of bush faintly peeping round the. summit of a peak bearing W. by S. from us. It is Oterio bush — the only bush visK hie in the landscape — and for that point, we shape our course in pretty nearly a straight line. A short time brings us to, the Waipahee, a rapid stream somewhat larger than the Kaihik\i, which, after- a tor-^ tuous course, in which it receives, a numberof tributaries, passes through a gorge in the "Wairuna range and joins the , Pomahawk, •whose waters fall into the Clutha near the east end of the Tapuanook range. Imme- . diately after crossing the Waipahee, we. pass, close to a large peat bog on our left, the pieces of bleached wood on whose surface look like the bones of Ezckiel's vision, very many and very dry ; and though these may not live again like the bones of the vision, they and the bed on -which they rest may at some period be (as a supply offuel in the absence of bush) of no little service in giving life and animation to the '< uninhabited valley before us. We err in saying uninhabited, for we soon arrive at a little hut and stockyard, proclaiming that man has here already invaded nature's solitude. But the gathering fleecy clouds "warn us of an approaching change in the weather, so we must hyrry on. Arrived at the base of the conical hill on whose crest we some hours before perceived the bush, ,we gaze in wonder on the huge blocks of* stone which hang on its sides or have de-, scended to its base ; and then passing round to the west side of the hill, we cross a low ridge and find ourselves at Oterio warrie. Off goes the load of blankets and provisions from our shoulders ; a few pieces of scrub picked up on the road soon afford sufficient five to prepare a pannikin of tea ; and whilst that process is proceeding, we debate the question of our bivouac for the night. 'Tis yet early \n the afternoon ; v/e might reach Tuturau by nightfall, the warrie is ruinous, and the hill whence we must fetch firewood for the night is high, steep, and rugged ; — rbut the mist begins to gather on the distant hill tops — the probability of rain increases every minute ; and doubting much whether it would expedite our journey to lie down in wet blankets after a 40 miles' march* v/e conclude to re-, main where we are for the night, and a,t the same time conclude our dinner also. Discretion was certainly in this instance the better part of valour, for we had just got firewood, and repaired the thatch- of the warrie, when down came the rain in a steady determined patter. Fancy a place like an overgrown deserted dog kennel, some 10 feet long by 6 wide — walls (?) ! 3 feet high of thatch [ the roof had once been thatched, but is now sadly delapidated, thanks to the destroying hand' of time and the still more destructive hand of some traveller, who, too lazy to supply himself otherwise, had purloined a part of the thatch to make a bed for himself. Such is Oterio warrie, in which we lay by the' side of the fire, reading, writing, and smoking by turns,, till . - " The darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From* an eagle in his flight," And now the fire burns brighter, castiftg.its flickering light atid fitful shadows around ; we gaze on the embers with their changeful fantastic shapes, the mind wanderiii'g''away ■ to those r we liad left at Kome'V m'eimory'. brings hack- the past,- imagination^; pain^V, the future, beguiling thus our solitudVtill-*.-we resign ourselves to - , „ *vV ''} v " Tired ! natu're"s sweet restorer, balmy*sleep.',V«fSoundly, ; we sle,pt,tiikdaybreak,* wW, , «fj:q^;

the usual morning repast, we proceed on our journey. , Crossing the Oterio stream, we pass in a westerly direction down the valley before us, which gradually narrows until we come to the point where the waters divide ; all that we have hitherto passed, flowing, after, a very long circuit, into the Clutha, whilst all "before us fall into the Mataura. From this point the valley widens, and is shortly divided into two hy a high ridge running through it. "We keep to the left of this dividing ridge, and bear away" more towards the hills on our left hand side. The country now assumes a different aspect. Since leaving Popotuna gorge we have not met with a single blade of flax ; fern and tutu have been almost equally scarce : it has been altogether a grassy country, although in many places the character of the grass, and the moss and lichens beneath, seem to indicate a sour, cold, unkindly soil : the undulations have been gentle, so as not to interfere with a good prospect ahead. But now 'tis ridge and gully, ridge and gully, we have to cross, fine rich grassy flat-topped ridges, deep ferny or tutuy gullies, with flaxy patches scattered about. The vegetation is more luxuriant, and the country altogether is a much finer stock country (though less pleasant to travel) than what we have just passed through. From five to six hours' walk from Oterio brings us to the native reserve^ at Tuturau, near the bank of the Mataura. The sole occupants of this large reserve are an old native chief named Reku, with his two wives and family. A very intelligent, though rather unintelligible, old fellow islleku ; possessed, of an extensive knowledge of the country, and a surprising ability of sketching out its natural features. Five minutes walk from the Maori habitation brings us down to the golden sand of the Mataura river. But surely such a golden subject deserves a new chapter.

T. B. G.