The Explorer.

Otago Witness, Issue 1581, 4 March 1882, Page 12

The Explorer.

OVERLAMB TO 9IARTI!%> BAY.

[Specially Written for the Otago Witness.]

Although more than one description of tours to the West Coast has appeared in Jjruior years, the romantic interest which attaches to the wild and rugged mountain fastnesses of the south-west corner of oui Island is so strong and general as to make a full account of these regions ever welcome. Besides, 30 little is known of these parts that they may still be looked upon as a terra incognita, and any information throwing additional light upon the capabilities of these regions and the inducements they offer to settlement is of substantial value to the Colony.

It may as well be stated at the outset that a through trip to Martin's Bay from the head of Lake VVakatipu means hard and arduous work, which none but strong and healthy men should undertake. All the requirements for the journey have to be carried by the excursionist themselves, the tracks beinj* impracticable for pack-horses, and no habitation or settlement is met with until Martin's Bay is reached. In addition to this the traveller will have to provide himself with an extra supply of provender; in case the rivers be swollen by rain, in which atate they are unsafe to cross, and it may take several days before they fall to a safe level. The tracks, where they have not completely disappeared, are simply (abominable. The money spent on the Lake Harris as well as on the Greenstone track is all but thrown away. Though both have been constructed as bridle tracks no sane man would attempt to- take a horse over either. Where they skirt sideways, or over a precipice, they are narrow and unsafe, sometimes scarcely a foot wide, and often their grade attains a rise of two feet in one foot. Two attempts have been made to take a horse thrpugh, in one case it was death to the horse ; in the other case the animal, as he was found de Irop, was ,iurned adrift. This is certainly not encouraging to horses. It is true, a married woman, residing ; in QueenstoAvn, lias repeatedly made the trip overland ; but then it must be borne in mind that slie was brought up : at Martini Bay, is thoroughly mured to the hardships of West Coast life, and, therefore, cannot be -quoted as an example. On the other 1 hand, we have numerous instances of well-equibpe'd' parties failing, to ireach the Bay, and the fact that only 1 a small percentage of those Btar'tingjreally get' to the'gbal'bf their journey certifies to the difficulty.pi the undertaking. ,' f , »_» _ Anyone 'desirous ,of ' making, the trip should engage one/6f the guides residingpt Queenstown, or, better still, place, himself in communication' with Mr W. Webb, of Martin's Bay, who is' thoroughly acquainted] with every inch of the'eountry, andiwh'O is 4^ intelligeuo and energetic i guide. . Besides ' which JMr Webb possesses boats jby,' whibh 1 the , traveller can-., saij 1 down Lake' f M'Kerrpw and the Hollyford River to Martin's Bay, saving himself a weary 1 journey ;of| 20 miles. Arrived at Mr W ( ebb's settlement,' Mrs Webb •will mmake her guest feel quite at home by that unostentatious kindness so often met withi n lonely settlements, and I may add, for the information of the fastidious,' that everywhere the eye turns it will meet that description of cleanliness' whibh proclaims ' itself inborn. After this introduction, THE .JfQUENEY AND THE SCENERY. commands aurnrst attention. >

Leaving J^EilShsfrdt's Hotel at Queenstown about 9 o'clock on the morning of the 7th of February, 1882, we get aboard the Jane Williams, which, aftertheusual unavoidable delays, makes a start. The weather was anything but promising. A northerly hurricane lashed Lake Wakatipu into high tumultuous waves, which hissed back their Resentment in seething ebullitions. The sky around was hung with ominous looking clouds threatening a drenching downpour at any moment, while the air was of that keen and unpleasantly moist description which has ever a dampening effect upon the mind. I have seen Lake 'Wakatipu in fair weather and in foul, and am of the opinion that, the surrounding scenery shows to the best advantage when a boisterous wind drives the dense clouds along the rugged' mountains which flank the lake on either side. The general character of Lake Wakatipu scenery is solemn and awe-in-spiring, and shifting clouds add to the mysteriously interesting feeling which is conjured up in the imagination by truly grand and majestic scenery. , On the day in question this was particularly noticeable. Here the curling clouds circle round a bleak, precipitous mountain peak, enveloping it in a gradually-closing shroud, until it faded from the view like some grim phantom. In another direction the clouds partially disperse, and through the thinner mist gleam the prismatic rays reflected from some stupendous glacier. A struggle ensues between the light and the clouds; for a moment the glacier seems to gain the victory, and expectancy isi growing into a wild excitement of delight, when, lo! a darkening cloud veils the picture, as if too sacred for mortal eye. On the opposite shore' of the Lake, dense clouds are chasing each other between the scraggy peaks with such fury that for a moment you stare in wonderingdoubt whether it were the mountains or the clouds that moved. Although the journey to the head of the lake lasted the greater part of the day, the time seemed too short to follow all the ch&nges in the ever-varying scene, and when the steamer landed at Kinloch it was with regret that I diverted my attention from its contemplation to so prosaic an object as— my 8 wag. We .stayed that night at Mr Bryant's? Glacier HoteJ, where the traveller cannot fail to find everything, from the ' landlord down, very queer. The hotel is a building by itself; the dining-room is a building by itself some 30 yards removed from the hotel, and the bedrooms are in a building by itself about 20 yards from the dining-room, while the landlord is removed more than double the total of these distances from the average standard of rational humanity. However, the accommodation is very good ; everything is scrupulously clean, the liquors are of superior quality, and do not appear to be affected by the febrile temper of the landlord. We enjoyed ourselves well, Klept well, but unfortunately awoke on a dull morning, giving promise of much unsettled weather. However, we made a start, Mr Graham, of Dart Valley, kindly placing a horse at our disposal to carry our swags as far as his station, a distance of about nine miles. The journey did not open under propitious circumstances. The roads were knee deep in mud through the incessant rains, to which a shower now_ and then added a sprinkle to maintain its proper consistence. The .Dart River wa* roaring bank high ; _ from every liutL rill in the mountain ddea raging cataracts tumbled headlong down, the branches overhead drooped languidly? surcharged with moisture ;

r,he dead timber, through the increased weight, "ell with a heavy thud now to the right of us, md now to the left of us ; heavy clouds hung \bout the horizon in every direction ; the very .nountains bore a most uninviting and forbidding aspect, and on the whole it seemed as if the ocean had determined to meet us halfway on the road ; yet on we moved. About noon the weather cleared a little, and .vq obtain fair glimpses of Cosmos Peak and Mount Earnslaw. The scenery of the Dart Valley resembles much that of Lake Waka,ipu; but passing close to its western bank nany what may be called " vignette" views of ,'reat loveliness are met with, while on the nountains on the eastern bank the actions of norraines and glaciers still tell a tale of the ime when the valley was several thousand feet ligher than its present level. Shortly after entering the Routeburn the lills begin to close in, and are towering m oointed pinnacles several thousand feet above W heads. Turning a bend in the Routeburn /alley a most singular spectacle presents SseJf. An apparently perpendicular cliff of lorseshoe form rises to a height of about 2000 feet. About 400 feet from the summit issues a waterfall, without any indication of creek or vatercourse, creating the impression as if the .nountain had burst a vein, frpm which issued !.s very life blood. The fall descends in one <-loar leap about 300 feet, but presently re>ppears, and after precipitating itself a second cime about 200 feet disappears as mysteriously as it appeared. This view presents a very singular picture, and is, as far as I know, without a parallel. , The greater portion of the track lies through shickly-wooded country, and open grass plots are but rarely met with, but where they do exist they' are of great beauty and interest.] Near the . ford of the, Routeliurn the track suddenly emerges from the dense bush, and leads into a •spot of sylvan loveliness. 'Tall .birches enclose, in a perfect semicircle, an opening in ohe woods, carpeted with tender grass of a warm and living green, whilO around the serrated pu^naßj^JoLthe Hutnboldt mountains rise like sentinels'-: $%gtolthe sanctity of the-spot. J?o the ri&ftH jupt described, adds a deeply myst jriQU§< oaarmj to the place. r The as poets lovo to <;ieiJict!.>». x^[^& l^Mn^ ; plac'efof fairies. It is .such a! spot^nich.^' w^ 8 'explains the poetic, yeVJsferri^and"a^Bmr| i ;freHgioris of our forefatherfe. Th&^r# fbfcesj .trough which you pass reminds' you" off destnptions of old England and the'JDruids 1000 years, ago, in which only that species of luaatics yclept "tourist," is out place. ' Approaching the West Coast thef^cenery assjiiries more and more a wild' and rugged character, especially noticeable,. Jpy. the steep ascent of 'the track. At every turn of the road dome j new and surprising objectß come to vjew,. but all the wonders of the road 1 are riuddonly eclipsed by a perpendicular wall of rook more ' than 1500 feet in heightj and running as 'far as ,the eye can v reach. • The track, closely skirts the v foot of 'this singular ' precipice, a'look at which suffices to make one feel faint." It is one of those sights by which you. feel yourself taken into Nature's unreserved .confidence, when she whispers to you her innermost secrets, and cpmmunes pfj-her acts and convulsions' free from all restraint. At the western end of the wall, where it projects a little 'further into the Valley, a waterfall of considerable' volume falls in one unbroken descent of 600 feet, losing; itself amongst loose rocks and brushwood, with terrific noise. " ; '' ' ' A short journey further brings 'us' to "*' The Hut, : " the last habitation .before ,r,ej*ching, Martin's Bay. " The' Hut " was occujjed, by the survey party under the!charge,of,Mr A. B. Burns, 1 whose object frae to fix trig, stations in these inhospitable regions. Here wef* 'learned the , cheering news, that the.jaarty Jir,d been weather-bound for three weelcs, durajj which' time they had experienced .only one fine day,, and that a Sunday. We fetp made heartily 1 welcome, arid treated with the greatest kindness by every member of the party. The following morning our, breakfast was laid on the flopr of "The Hut," -jvhere we had; been accommodated the previous night with a "shakedown." The breakfast consisted of porridge, to which, in the absence of milk, Liebeg's extract of meat had been added. It was served out in pannikins, and sipped with our pocketrknives.' Each persuaded himself to the best of his ability that it was delicious, but with very indifferent success. We could not forget that only two mornings ago we had breakfasted at Eichardt's! Hotel, the recollection of which completely spoiled the porridge. But worse than the porridge even was the weather. Rain fell, and lowering clouds gathered from every direction; it -was therefore agreed that we should stay where we were. The day passed misbrably enough, and we had a good opportunity of judging of the misery endured by the party who had been thus " cribbed, cabined, and confined" for three weeks. We beguiled the time by engraving our names on the door of the hut, which apparently served the purpose of a visitor's book. Towards evening the weather faired, and preparations were made for an early start next morning. Although the morning was not much better than the previous one, we started about 7 o'clock, and after a weary climb reached Lake Harris, on the saddle between the Routeburn and the Hollyford River. The Lake, although not; of any great size, is interesting on account of its $ize, is interesting on account of its posi(tioa and elevation. It is, as it were, placed on a sneljE. about 4500 feet above sea-level, it is surrounded by precipitous, black-looking • cliffs, which give it a very sombre appearance, and discharges itself, as it is fed, by a waterfall of some dimensions. The track rounds one of the cliffs at an elevation of some 400 or 500 feet above the lake. Near the northern shore of the Lake rises a knoll of easy ascent, which no, one who travels that way should _ fail to ascend, as an incomparable panoramic view may be had from its summit. ■ , 1 Looking inland to the east, an intormidablo sea of mountains rise in an amphitheatrical form as i'ar as the eye can reach to the north, the east, and the south, culminating in 1 the double-peaked cone of Mount Aspiring. ! These children of the earth's convulsions range from 6000 to nearly 10,000 feet above sea level, and stand a rocky record of the earth's history. Born of Nature's turmoil, bathed in floods, nursed and lulled by storms, and clad in everlasting snow, they tell of change and progress, and remind us of a time when man was not. The view from this standpoint is far too extensive to be described or particularized, and all that can be done to convey an impression of the scene in words, is to say that the mountains crowd go clo&ely together as to resemble a sea in a storm, petrified by some Nemesis. The snow tind the glaciers, which cover nearly every mountain peak in view, 1 .'prosonUug Llio foam and completing the ilium on. Turning to the west, the Hollyford Valley yawns one vast ab\»ss of more than 5000 Teat in ! depth perpendicularly below your feet. On th« oppooiLo bide of the /alley rise, even more vertically, the snov/-clud peaks of the Darren Mountains, in onetfolidphalanx,appearinKtobo up ia rank and file, like watchmen, to guard the

terra incognita, which lies behind protecting them from intrusion. These wildly and grotesquely serrated and torn paeaks constitute the most awe-inspiring and forbidding scene in the w,hole tour. Approaching in their expression the savage and ferocious, they— looked at for the first time— almost make the blood curdle with sheer affright. To the west and the north the Darren Moun (ains appear to dip gradually until they disappear beneath the ocean, which, from one standpoint, can be plainly seen swallowing up the dry land, and fading away into the sky,— three mysteries linked together completing a <?rand poem to which the tiny atom-like spectator forms the moral. A descent of more than six miles leads down to tho Hollyford Valley by a rough and dangerous track, partly covered by fallen trees, partly overgrown by rank vegetation, partly obliterated by slips, partly carried away— in short, the track has met all the possible mishaps to which a mountain track is heir to, so that only a very small portion of it can be called passable. We had scarcely commenced the descent when wo were 1 overtaken by the survey party, loaded with enormous swags. The guidance of Mr Burns was highly acceptable, as the track, to say the least of it, is very uncertain. As we descend, the vegetation changes from the mputain birch to red pine, rata, rimeo, and other valuable woods, interspersed with fern trees,, frfc'isias— attaining a diameter in the trunk of two feet— and ribbonwood, with its sweetly smelling flowers, while the ground is carpeted with an endless variety of fernb and mosses. By the time we 'reached the bottom of the Valley, partly with the perspiration, and* partly with ,the drizzling' rain,' we were ' thoroughly soaked, tired, and exhausted, and when : the camping-ground was reached, .cast .down' our swags with' an inward thanksgiving. , The following day was wet again, too wet to ' make a start. In the' afternoon, however ,_ it faired, and we saw several of the peaks which had inspired 1 us with so much awe, the day , before, towering high above our heads, frowning with impotent rage at our intrusion. The evening also proving fine, we enjoyed ■ one of those delicious gatherings round a camp fire, which leave the drawing-rooms of the wealthy j and great, and the salons of the fashionable, immeasurably behind in real and happy enjoyment, even though the conversation leave' occasionally the path of conventionality by unrer strainedbursts of hilarity. The tall trees waving their leafy crests gracefully in mid air ; the tents of the survey party and our own promiscuously strewn around, lit up from within like Chinese lanterns; the rocky ramparts enclosing the valley, displaying only a narrow ribbon of dark blue sky bespangled with glittering, stars immediately above our heads ; ' the thick undergrowth surrounding like a pallisade the clearing of our camp : t the laughing faces of the party happy with health and good temper, the whole scene lighted up by the cheerful camp : ' fire's ruddy glow,' and enveloped in unfriendly darkness, pierced only by the weird shrieks iof the jowl, conveys a charm that must be experienced to be enjoyed* A camp fire under such circumstances ' is 'one of those occasions which makes- you think- as a sage, though you feel as a man. Lost for the' nutanent to the world, and the world lost ' to 'you, you tarn your eyes inward, making a comprehensive though rapid, , survey of .your inner self. Happy he in TflM£9P oupbjpard no skeleton ing; in whose th^re qg^fj^.let him let, sleeping dogs alone.- ;."'- ,<.,im*&. •» '■<..>'.. On th'e'preVibtibday w^had an opportunity of judgjng.of t£e.hardshii)& endured by survey por'tiep in ' l ßo'"j^hqs^ita'ble' a region 1 as > jthe "Darren Mountiains v , Instruments, provisions; tents, bedding— everything Has to oe carried over roads which no'soldier would be asked to travel, and' in loads no soldier would be expected to carry. Add to this the coarse way of living, restricted to tea, damper, and mutton, with nothing 'to, pa/te awaythe tediunLof succeeding wet days, but, a stray 'Otago' Wit- ' 'ness two or three months old, or a novel minus half its contents, and perhaps wi,tho#t,beginning or end, and you have a piotureof ,a survey .party's life in the West Coast .ranges. > Parties , in such circumstances >may well, exclaim with Cowper— ■ , ■ ' ■ ' O, Solitude ! where are.the charms^ ' ' , That sages have seen in your face ? t ,' . Tlie public are little aware what services ] are rendered them, and are perhaps as ignorant; the importance of, 'these services as' of' thendangers, and it is this fact, which ,led to the above remarks. • ■• , r The following day we made an early start, although the, weather was anything but settled: ' Passing along the road, we heard the roar of a waterfall, apparently close by, and were induced to lay down our swags and to force our way through the bush in order to obtain a view of the fall. The distance proved greater than we expected, but we were repaid by, a picture rarely seen. At the end of a narrow gorge the rock rises almost perpendicularly as did also the sides of the gorge ; yet all around the slopes were thickly timbered with tall and graceful trees, except where some projecting or overhanging rock refused support to vegetation. From a height of nearly one thousand feet could be seen several smaller falls glinting through and disappearing again amongst the thick foliage until about one hundred feet above our standpoint the gathered water issues from a narrow crevice, and in its descent spreads out like a veil of silver tracery in rich and ever-changing folds. A circular basin received the falling waters, on the brink of which which stands a gigantic fern-tree, the . largest we saw in our travels, its graceful plumes dancing' to' the music of the water, while the woods around gravely nod acknowledgment of the spectator's undisguised admiration. In waterfalls of all descriptions the Hollyford and Routeburn Valleys abound, and the lover of such scenery will find an ever changing variety at almost every mile of his progress. . . We had not proceeded very far when ram came down in torrents, and to make matters worse we lost the track after crossing Hidden Falls Creek. After beating about the bush for an hour or so we luckily discovered the track, and on we went as fast as logs' could carry us. Rising Homer's Saddle, the Water, coursed down our backs, overflowing our boots, so that our condition resembled that , of , drowned rats. On we sped, and on spedthe, rain. Suddenly, though long expected, we reached Pyke's Creek. The creek, which may well be called a river,- was swollen bank high, and ran at terrific " speed. On its rippling I surface paddled a number of ducks, eyeing us with mocking lear, evidently taunting us with our vaunted superiority, while the very 'eels contemplated fleeing up the trees in order to save their lives. But ducks may quack and eels may drown, wo had come to go to Bay, and go we would. Pyke's Creek can only be crossed by canoes, which are found on the spot. Voting Mr W. Hume as pilot, we placed each in succession, our carcases and our belongings under his care, and it is only due to Mr Hume to state that he acquitted himself \yith skill ) and efficiency. Arrived on the opposite side of Pyke's Creek, wo found a camping-place ready to hand ; and as we wore nearly exhausted, and approaching a state of vagrancy, i.e., ■ having no visible means of support, except A sonio birdy, which required manipulation

before' they became means of support, we camped". Towards evening the rain ceasedj and each member of the party went through a drying process, which under the unremitting attention to business of mosquitoes} and sandflies was very trying, It must be understood that we had wisely taken no change of clothes with us, for had we done so they t<jo would in all likelihood have got wet. There Remained, therefore, nothing but to take off the wet clothes and wrap a blanket round our loins, dryingour garments piecemeal, thus transforming ourselves, after acting donkey all day, into clothes-horses at night— a very questionable stage in the progress of development. In our. primitive dress we presented a fair field and no favour to tho combined energy and industry! of mosquitoes and sandflies, who, if they have any consciences at all, must feel dreadfully oppressed by the flood of profanity they gave rise to— and that on a Sunday evening, too. [However, even the troubles of West Coast 'travellers come to an end sometimes. Our clothes dried and readjusted, the birds discusked, and the last drop drained from the flask, 10 o'clock found us snugly ensconced in the b ankets on a bed 'of fern, listening with minglid feelings to the unceasing hum, which we k|ew to be that of the mosquito. Next morning dawned beautifully fine. As the sun rose and the mist rolled from the valleys and the lills, the limped river, its banks clothed with variegated green ; , the woodbd mountains capped with shining sriow-fields and glittering glaciers, framed by the deep blue velvet of ,the 1 sky, shone with a newness and a brightness only born of heavy showers. The picture was o\ie of ueace and unspeakable loveliness, and q repose* as if begotten of the consciousness of its beauty lay upon it; ,a fairer scene it would be difficult to imagine. „ Wd agreed* to leave our tent and things where ■ they -were, walk to Lake M'Kerrow, a dis;ance of five or six miles, try to make our presence known, and attract' the notice of the settle rsby raising a smoke— the substitute for the t jlegraph' in these parts. The road follows dowr Pyke's Creek and the Hollyford Valley. The wight' morning sun shines upon many a lovely scene; such which suggests abbey and cathedral, yet these incomparable views of the Hollyford Valley lose nothing in sublimity by theirf absence. Each of these t pictures is a cathedral, a hymn, a sermon in itself, a songof praise and joy, to which man may add, but cannot improve. • - Tl c musically-inclined of the party made the woods echo'wjth choice selections of airs, and subsequent (travellers may ,be surprised by hearng the crows, paroquets, and the kakjs rehearsing recitative and trios from the best operas. Thus, •we • arrive at the head of Lake M'Kerrow, and a fire is speedily lighted. Anon, we espie a sail. " No ! It is'nt a'sail ! Yes, it is, and .it is coming 1 this j way* Hurrah !" We have, not long to' wait befdre the ,boat, grates on the, pebbly' beach, and out steps Mr Webb, whose .first question j is, * Who is returned.?", We. thought he .re-,, ferrod to' the Licensing Commissioners, ( and explained that the' elections w.ere on the tapis, but their 1 dates 'not fixed yet. "No, no,* he replied,. "I mean who is returned for the the House 'of. Representatives ?| v This Was on' the 12th, .February,, more than two mjonths after the election, and here was a,' map whe did not actually know the result 1 Talk j of Sleepy Hollow after that ! The Queenstown nreand other items of local import were all j nev*|s in these parts. After satisfying our mutual curiosity, Mr Webb, explained that 'he intended to go to Queenstown— an event which hapfpened about once <in two years, and as we are not in the habit \oi going to Martin's Bay j much more 'frequently, our meeting at Lake M'Kerrow, was voted a coincidence. We prevailed, upon, Mr Webb, to return with us to May-tin's J3ay, coming back the following day. This wad' agreed upon. In the meantime tne '.wind had died away, but eacli of the party ,bei]ig able to "pull 1 an oar, 1 we soon made gooa speed down the lake, which not being mubh', more than a. mile wide, afforded us an opportunity of enjoying 'all' the beauties 1 and attractions of its shores. . The hills enclosing the| lake are neither high nor steep, but all densely timbered, the best qualities, such as kauri,' ratu,' rimo, miro, white pine, and the better qualities of 'birch abounding. ' The scenery of the lake is very prettyj the 'shading of the trees from the brightest to the darkest green j interspersed by the, 'fiery purple of the ratftiblossomy or toned'dpwn by the pale flowers' : of the veronica and the ribbonwood, produces a very pleasing effect. ' ' /'•)'■ '" \ < At the foot of the lake we are shown the site ofiwhat was once Jamestown, 1 the last dwelling hofise of, which was blown down the week before our visit, and the town is now represented bylone solitary iron building dubbed the survey Office. About the mouth of the lake and along th 4 Hollyford River many clearings speak of wasted energy and labour thrown away, for every clearing is overgrown by that bane of the settler, known as mokomoko, a shrub difficult to exterminate, and useless as cattle food. The Hollyford River between the lake and the ocean is also very pretty, its banks being clothed in foliage to the water's edge. After a very enjoyable pull of 17 miles, we arrive at Mr Webb's settlement, where our creature comforts are speedily attended, and we enjoy once more "a good square meal." A) walk on the sandspit brings to an end a delightful day. , • 'Nextmornmg dawns again gloomy and threatening, but our arrangements are made, time is limited, delay out' of the question, and the start therefore inevitable. The morning, however is • , fair enough to enjoy the pull up the river to the Lake, and we cannot withhold our admiration of the beautiful vegetation which crowds both banks of; the river. Amongst rata in full blossom, and shrubs and trees of dainty green and outline, lords a graceful kauri, its drooping branches resembling those of the weeping wjllow ; while here and there a gigantic goai gives quite 'an ■ exotic ' appearance to the scene,' something 'quite beyond what we were prepared to see. Unfortunately tho descending rtdn 'damped our admiration, and turned all our attention to the .wind and the oars. Tjho weather is' gaihering ' in very ominous 'clouds, and soon the heavons assumed as black and threatening an .appearance as it has been njy lot to see. The wind -dies away, and rain ifijjls in torrents, the clouds settle down upon ,the hills, and we are •' evidently in for a bad time. The day almost darkens to evening dusk, and the lake, but yesterday so fair, be■comes sombre and gloomy in the extreme. \Landing at the head, our first care is to pitch 'Mr Webb's tent and light a fire. That accomplished, we regale ourselves with tea and "little wonders," a description of "cookies prepared by Mrs Wobb. The rain continued to pour down like]|torrcnts, and wo decided to stop where we are sooner than to return to our camp at Pyke's Creek, and a miserable night we spent— sometimes lying down in our wet clothes, trying to snatch a lew wmks of sleep, or sitting by the fire. To make matters more comfortable a fierce wind is blowing up the lake, cutting you almost to the very marrow. However, the longest night has a morning, and with dawn comes the promise of a fine 'day. Taking a hurried drink of tea, we set out for our camp at Pyke's Creek, where, upon our arrival, we find matters in much confußion, 1 ,The .woodheus and. rata bad made as

close an inspection of our belonging* aft any custom-house officer could .possißiy have done — appropriated a toothbrush, and made away with a bottle of arsenical soap,, tasted each piece, from scented to carbolic acid soap ; had liberally patronised our provisions, including the tea and sugar, and upset everything that was upsetable. The blowflies had got into our blankets, mackintoshes, socks, towels, 1 &c, and— you know what. Here was • a dileihma i Strong language was of no use, as the jdamage was done, and the perpetrators non est. We made the best of a bad job, breakfasted on what the woodhens and rats had considerately left us, packed up swag, and, star ted on our return journeyj ourney accompanied by Mr Webb; The day proved itself delightfully fine > and we saw much of the country. The scenery oftheHollyfordValleyforsome2smilesupwards from Lake M'Kerrow is of the most lovely description. Above this point the valley narrows, and assumes the wild and sterile character of a moutain gorge. • Leaving Pyke's Creek, we heard the avalanches thundering down thn steeps of Mount Titoko in quick and fearful succession, shaking the solid earth beneath our feet. Retracing our stfeps over the same ground we came on the previous wet Sunday, we could admire the . scene^ now laughing in golden sunshine, which on thje wet day were hid from view by mist. At Homer's saddle we were conducted by Mr Webtj to the spot from whence Mr Raworth took (his celebrated prize picture of Mount Titoko; and I may here mention that Mr Webb acted as guide to Mr Raworth when sketching in these parts. Of all New Zealand mountains, Titoko is the one whichapprpaches the nearest to the spire description*- Its height has not'as yet-been ascertained, bnfc it is believed to be from 10,000 to 11,000 feet in height. Looked at from Homer's Saddle you see its northern aspect, and the top of its pinnacM appearing to be between 3000 and 40GO feet above the snow-line, would corroborate the above estimate,' as the snow-line is fixed by observation at 7000 feet above sea-level. Moujit Titoko rises almost vertically from the Hollyford Valley, and compared to its stupendous height has somewhat of a slenderappearance, Its formation consists of igneous rockj and in its colour, as well as in its serrated and craggy outline, has a wild and i savage aspect, stamping it as essentially a West Coast mountain. Its chief attractiveness centres round its portion ahove the know-line. Here glaciers upon glaciers arise, broken and divided by projecting and overnanginpr rocks, richly and grotesquely . carved in traceries of intricate design. There a mighty rib' rises through the snow aridicefieldfe, defying by, its angle to bear its load of either. Nearer the pinnacle, one precipice overtops another, and as the mountain rises, its (sides become more ' and more broken ' and rugged.' Round its very summit curl fleecy clouds, like a gossamer veil, wherewith 1 some mountain fairy vainly tries to a lield' the pale face of her rigid^ infant from ■ vulj; ar stare, for a' power as invisible 1 as her • own, Vet as 'potent, rends atwain the veil, and Titoko "reveals' himself in all his majestio ■ glorjv. The towering peak with its burnished glaciers," 'shining like frosted silver; the bier ding .white' of its snow,fields ;• the_ black and) scarred faces of its precipicesifstandin'gout in bold and sharp-cut relief from the deep and spotless azure of the sky,' form's a 1 picture whijh, once beheld, can never be'forgotterit > To heighten the impression 1 ' made #by the . mountain, avalanches thunder down its sides with terrific boom and crash; ' filling the air wit! 1 undefinable noise's and making the solid earl.h tremble beneath' your 'feet, the vibratioi s running up the slender pinnacle; shaking it io its very foundations. Thus the very causes which made ' the mountain we saw -would one day work its destruction, and sinking from rapture iri'tp thought, which must'rema n bur own, we felt improved by what we hac [ seen' and by what we had thought. Regretfully we went oh' our way, yet from every vantage point cast up one more glance at Mdunt Titoko,' which is gradually lost to sight as the track strikes 'deeper and deeper into the forest. So dense is the bush in places thajb no sunlight penetrates the leafy roof, which, looked up at, resembles a dome cunniiigly inlaid with glass of all the shades which grelen is capable of. But a magnificent surprile awaits us as at Hidden Falls Creek, whlere we issue from the forest, Mt. Titoka rises once more to prominent view in the landscape, and we are here— about 1 o'clock — within the angle of the sun's rays as they are radiated from a .large number, of 'its glaciers. The mountain's ' top seems aglow : with fire and sparkle. You can only now and then steal a futitive glance at the dazzling splendour. No eye' could bear a prolonged look, so bright and fierce are the beams of prismatic light reflected from the ice. The play of colours is no less 'wonderful than the intensity of light, a purple fire shading off into deep vermilion is presently streaked with yellow, fading in a golden green. Could a painter fix these colours, and reproduce them with a tithe of their brilliancy, he would have achieved a masterpiece in colouring. As the sun declines from the zenith, and some of the glaciers are passed over by its rays, others, in a more startling manner than the former, radiate magically the gleams of fire and flame. During these changes it would almost seem as if the rojeky monarch lifted his glittering diadem to wave us his adieu.

jThe Hidden Fall, near this spot, is one of the sights of the tour. A screen of rock like the side wing of a theatre hides the fall from observation, but a loud roar readily tells of its whereabouts, and you see nothing of the fa ! ll until it bursts upon your view in all the mWic of its grandeur. Over an overhanging ledge of rock probably 110 feet in height, tiimbles down a body of water, sufficient to rriake the ground under your feet vibrate. The Width of the fall is between 25 and 30 feet, and an estimate of the quantity of wlter it lels down may be formed, when it is^Kited that the Hidden Falls Creek, is at all times a formidable stream to ford, and that it runs about 20 yards wide at the ford. The fall is a magnificent sight at any time, but is seen to its best advantage at sunset, when the sun shines into the recess containing the fall. ' That night we again made tho surveyors' camp, where we pitched our tent, dried ourselves, and slept the sleep of the just, next morning taking leave our, kind friends, the gentlemen of the survey party and of Mr Webb, who preferred the Lake Harris saddle, while our route lay over the Greenstone saddle. I must here pay a debt of gratitude to Mr A. B. Burns and his party, who, besides treating us with the greatest kindness, furnished us with information as to our route, without which we could not have made the journey in the time we did, and who voluntarily undertook the infliction of a quantity of oatmeal m exchange for flour sufficient for the the rest of our journey. Wending our way up Pass Creek, one of the branches of tho Hollyford, we obtained a splendid view of Mount Christina, a mountain of interest and of considerable height. A glacier which has been in descent since first discovered has now nearly leached the timber-line, and wo were treated tothobinuuiav feighb ol a large body of ice in midsiraminr nearly 4000 feet below the snowline.

The track over the Greenstone saddle is almost unfit for man to travel, and as a bridletrack is an utter abortion. After some of the roughest travelling in the whole journey we made the saddle, passed a little dreary lake, locally known as Dismal Hollow, and Lake M'Kellar, and presently found ourselves on our descent to Lake Wakatipu by the Green- . etone Valley, We camped that night opposite the Toothpick Range, so called from a number of pointed cones, by which the range is capped. The next day we started off on a race for the steamer, which on our tour up the Lake we had promised to meet at 2 o'clock that day. The Greenstone Valley is, on the whole, uninteresting, presenting no points of interest, especially to a traveller coming from the West Coast. That afternoon -February the I7th-about 2 o'clock the outpost of the party reached Mr John M'Bndes homestead on Lake Wakatipu, wet to the armpits after crossing the Greenstone, ana worn out with the extra exertion of the day. The steamer, of course, was gone. Mr M'Bride, however, entertained us hospitably, supplied us with dry and warm clothing, and after the inner man was refreshed, took us on board his craft and set sail for Queenstown, which, after a splen did run of less than four hours, or at the rate of eight miles an hour, we reached m safety. Thus ended a trip which certainly might have been more enjoyable had the weather been finer, but was yet rendered pleasant enough by the members of the party being good men and staunch, not easily frightened by mountains or by flood, and being agreeable company withall. Of course we were the lions of the night at Queenstown, and were welcomed by friends, who began to be anxious on our account. The return trip to Arrowtown from Martin's Bay occupied four days, and th distance traversed cannot bo less than loe miles, including some very rough travelling. 0