A SKETCH OF THE OLD MAN RANGE.

Otago Witness, Issue 2078, 21 December 1893, Page 15

A SKETCH OF THE OLD MAN RANGE.

(Specially Written for the Witness Cliristmas

Numler of 1893.)

By AJOR.

—that is, George Gordon, Alex. Rainey, and Jack Bennett, the last-named being your humble servant — had not had much luck since landing at the Bluff in the good ship Celestial in the year 1860. We had struck up an acquaintance before our ship's company had done singirg those farewell strains :

Old England's on our lee, brave boys, and long before sighting the green hills of Port Chalmers we three, drawn together by that inexp'icable animal magnetism often influencing the unity of kindred spirits, knew each other's story and had become fast Mends. All sons of gentlemen farmers, we were, like thousands of others, going out to make our fortunes on the wonderful goldfislds of Nf-.w Zealand, and we resolved to throw in our lot together ; but we didn't then know what roughing it was. Oar initiation in that line began on leaving the (Guiding Pianet (which was the name of the dirty little steamer that brought us on from Port Chalmers to the Bluff). We had to tow a small boat up the New River to the jetty at luveicareill, all night lorg -each taking it in turn, wading koee-deep in the ice-cold water with the boat-painter over his ehoalder. Well, that was the first experience, and I shall not trouble the reader with any more, but a&k him, or her, to come with me a few months later, to the foot of a great, wildlookiag mountain In Otago, afterwards celebrated for weal and for woe as The 0 d Man Range. The old digger who has followed ma thus far here pricks up his ear3 — that name puts him on his metal, I trow. Bat let me to my tale. The afternoon is lowering. All day the sky has worn that strange, bluish-leaden sheen, a sign generally betokening the approach of some violent atmospheric disturbance. It is 4 o'clock, and George and Alick must have got over the 01 1 Man long ago. They left me to bring on the lightest pack and to start after the ar.ival of. the mail, as we all three expected letters from Home. Bahold mp, then, gentle reide-', after carefully reading and re-reading mine (there were two for rae — one from mother and the other from Emma), preparing to start over yonder dreary, snow-capped mountain in the fastgathering tempest and the dying day. " I say, Mister Jack, I wouldn't tackle the Old Man tc-night ; tha weather looks too bad, and yonder comes a snowstorm," said Cheery Bob, Undiord of the Old Man Hotel (where we always put up when on the Manuherikia side of the range), pointing away up the height in the direction whence a white vapour was creeping and darkening the mountain with its grey shadow.

" Well, to tell you the truth, Bob," rejoined I,' turning to this real good fellow and casting a longicg glance at his brightly burning fire, " I do reel inclined to stay here over tight and cross over in the morning." " The snow'll be hard then, and you'll have better 1 ght for it, too," answered he. As there was really no great hurry, and I had told my mates that it was probable that I wouli not cross that night, I had just concluded to stay, when I heard someone in the bar say in an undertone, " Poor Meg'll never get over to-night." I was alongside the owner of the voice in an instant. " What's that 1 " " Meg — old Meg-i'-the-Mountain's gone up." " When did she leave 1 " asked I, eagerly.

" Only an hour since," added the man, shading his eyes with his hand, and peering out away up the flank of the mountain, darkening in the gathering gloom. I.changed my mind ; I was off, and I heard them say, " Nothing'll stop him." I knew I was doing a risky thing, but paused not. Old Meg had scraped my apparently lift 1 si body out of a snowdrift and paved my life, not long since ; and she should not perish if I could help it. For an hour and a-half I toiled up the side of Old Man Range, quickening my paces in the hope of sighting the old creature. It used to take us two good hour 3' active climbing to get to the top ; but, as I had put forth more than ordinary effjrts, I began to hope I was nearirg the highest ridge, the more so as the uight was fast approaching. There was a reed hut near the top of the mountain, in which venturesome diggers, who knew of its whereabouts, frequently passed the night when benighted on the Old Man. None of uq knew for certain who put it there, al-th-ugb common report said Meg-i'-the-Moun-tain had dove so ; and here I may profitably pause to tell the reader who this strange old creature I was now tryiDg to overtake was. The prospectora of the Old Man Range tell, between mysterious pauses, how they met her with a heavy-looking pack on her back on the top of a low snow-ridge nearly at the foot of the mountain where they discovered the rich gold, and that as soon a 8 she saw them she gave a scream, hopped away along the ridge uttering a series of half-frightened snorts, and suddenly disappeared, pack and all. After recovering from tha surprise naturally excited by this unlooked-for apparition in a place where "never man's foot had trod before," the prospectors paused in their descant and laughingly essayed to follow the old hag ; but, strange to relate, the ridge was not equal to their weight, and ere they counted mat>y paces the foremost sank up to his armpits and had to be dragged forth by his mates ; so trie party had to de&isr, and there was no sign of the witch although they rubbed their eyes. At last one of them thought he descried a hole 30 paces along the ridge, and the three came to the conclusion that the fugitive, probably some crazy old woman, had fallen down there and perished. Just tben night came on, and finding they could do absolutely nothing but descerd to the creek if they wanted to save their own lives, they reluctantly relinquished the chase and camped

for the night at the foot of the mount, resolving, however, to return in the morning. Bub in that they were frustrated, for on the next day, and the next, and the next a fearful 3nowstorm raged, and they had to huddle up in their tent to keep the life in them with brandy and hard biscuit. On the fourth day — beautifully fine — when the creek had subsided they found nuggetty gold in the crannies of its rocky sides —lots of it, too. It was agreed that two of them should return via the mountain top for tucker and tools next day, which they did, arriving at the township about noon. Judge of their surprise then, en seeing, the apparition which they beheld, as they thought, perish in the snow-fissure five days previously, enjoying a noggin, over the fire, at the Old Man Hotel 1 She did not take the slightest notice of their astounded queries and remark*, only continuing to glaie into the fire and occasionally to rock herself. The landlord whispered them aside that she was both deaf aud dumb, and informed the well-nigh incredible prospectors that she had arrived there early one morning four days before. The landlord, in turn, was equally confounded at hearing their tale, and rrom that day till the day of her death she was called Meg-i'-thß-Monntain. But many were the kind offire* she conferred upon half-starved, frozen diggers before that regrettable eveat, and it was woe to the man who said ill or meddled with M«g. Under such circumstances, therefore, in her frequent wanderings about the mountain she was unmolested, and diggers in their eagec thirst for gold soon ceased to wonder at her approach ; only passing her by with the licomc " Good day, mother 1 " to which she would shake h«r greyhead and hop away. Ever since saving my life the old woman had taken a deep and friendly interest in me, a thing which begot me much good-natured chaff ; but that I did not mind, as I was bens on aiding the old lady by finding out her history with the ulterior object of lightening, if possible, some trouble that at times appeared to causa her sore distress ; and altnough she rudely repulsed any such advances, and would depart in terrible wrath, still the next time I met her she would be kinder ia mood, so I persevered.

Well, that is all just now, for I am struggling in the rnidtt of a whirling snowstorm, GOOOfb up the mountain, in the thicktnk.g gloom. I stagger on, and fall, at .full length, ever somelhiog in the snow. I was up again in an instant, and about to pass on, when something impelled ma to stoop down and examine the cause of my fall. Ie was a bag. "Meg's, by Jupiter I" exclaimed I; she could not be far off. Hauling the bag — it was a tidy weight— out of the snow, I searched about, and my foot came up against a solt substance. This was Meg, half covered up. She seemed to be lifeless as I lifted her up. I thought a moment, anei then staggered on with her deadweight despera'ely, till, tripping again, I once more fe'.l headlorjg on the soft, colourless snow- colourless to me in the inky blackness around ; and aa I struggled with my burden there, that warm fireside scene so lately quitted seemed to me like a dream — a vision, and a silent warning of my impending doom to end in that bitterest of deaths — lo*t in the snow. The parting words of Bjb sounded like a knell in my heart. And now as I wrestled on — the heat of my rapid run up the mountain, the pitchy atmosphere, rapid fatigue, alternato exhaustion and excitement, combining with a fretfnl eagerness to overtake the fleeting moments, now irretrievably lost, and my utter despair of forming any defined action — sickening fires began to rapidly burn through my veins. The weight of a mountain had fallen on my temples; my lips became parched as with a salt thirst ; my strength was fast leaving me, and as pains took hold on rdy languishing limbs 1 felt that loathsome nausea and shivering dread with which Nature battles ever against death creeping over me, and I cried out through that wild, trackless storm in my anguish : " I shall perish, and without saviDg her ; and none will find us 1" O the agony of that moment, who shall describe I Here thought even forsook me, and the images of men — mother — Emma I — grew indistinct and shadowy to my mind's eye : the snow appeared burning and realing beneath me ; delirium gathered on me, and I felt I was again on my way, muttering broken and incoherent words, and that the very darkness fled away scared, departing like a scroll. -A blinding flash was succeeded the next instant by an awful crash, and then the world went out.

When consciousness returned centuries might have passed over my head. I opened my eyea on broad daylight with the sun shining brightly ; all the terrible sensations of that dim and distant black period were gone ; and as my mind cleared, my pulse revived, and rising on my elbow I looked about bewildered, and then lay back some moments with closed eyes and calmly thought. I knew I was in the shelter hub, and slowly collecting the incidents where I last left off the world — I did not care to imagine how I got here — I could not now swear whether I still dreamnt or was wide awake, reviewing such dreams of the long, long ago ; bub of this lam certain, that I went through all the different stage 3of the following dream— a recital of which, however, I must leave for another chapter.

Chapter 11. My Long-lost Brother— A Talisman,

I thought I was a m^re ldd again, and that Walter — my long-lost brother — coldly treated by father and even mother, despised by bis brothers and sisters, for what I never knew, and would probably havo been then too young to understand — cime and leant over my bed in the diikafcsa of the night, and with hot tears falling down on my face, he whispered brokenly : " Goodbye, Jack ! You love mo, at any rate -end I love you, Jack. I am off to New Zealand. Don't tell 1 " He kissed me and was gone out tbrou h my open b >drcorn window, leaving me rrvinp-, fis to break my hearfc ; but when mothe r hastened id, child as I was, aud mindful of Walter's last warring, I did not tell her the cause of my anguish. At that period of my life I might have been about six years old, whil«t Walter might have been pretty well on to 30. Yet he had no hair oa his face, nor the sign of any. Aa I can dimly remember, he was also a very

odd-looking cbap — had none of the refinements of the family, and in fact had a very coarse and vulgar appearance ; and I always firmly believed it was that which drove him forth from a family circle aristocratic in all its bearings aud with refinement in every lineament. His absence was not commented upon, and my childish mention of his name was frowned down by all, so that I ever afterwards became afraid to mention it in any of our family's hearing. Yet I went on secretly cherishing Walter's memory, and that was the main reason which brought me to New Zealand. To find my brother Walter, of whom I had never heard sines that night, was my object, as much as that of gold-get-ting. Now I thought he came and lifted me out of the snow and deposited me in the hut where I found myself, and then abruptly left me, strictly enjoining me to secrecy.

" Bat, Jack," said he sadly (he looked bo aged and all wrinkled), "so that you may know I have been with you I leave you a talisman."

Tnen he was gone I That indistinct occurrence struggled itself in my mind and became a fact, and v»ith it cams a duty to my reoaembrance, and I rose from my stretcher — um a zed at my own debility. At firot I could not stand without support against the wall. By degrees, however, I so far regained the mastery of my limbs as to be able to walk, though at first with pain. ,1 was ravenously huo^ry, and whtle searching about for any taing in the shipe cf food which the hut might contain, I chanced upon a piece of paper lying on a box near my late couch, which had the following scratched upon, it, evidently with a piece ot charcoal :—: —

" To Jack B ennett. — If you discovered my secret in the storm of last night, know that I have twice saved your life; but keep my secret and I am repaid, and good may come of it. Breathe it to one living soul, and never more will you set eyes osi — Meg-i'-THE-MOUNTAIN."

I stood sghast. There was Walter's talisman of my dream. I rubbed my eyes. Was I yet awake 1 Yes, and desperately hungry too. Underneath the paper was a small box containirg cooked meat, bread, tea, and sugar. The fire burned in the fireplace, and a billy already boiled there, but there was no sij<n of Meg-i'-the-Mountaiu. Past all wonder at all these things, I set to eat whilst the tea simmered. I seemed to eat furiously for upwards of an hour, thinking of Meg all the time, and wondering where she could be, and how she must have roused up in the midst of the snowstorm and fetched me here. Presently I heard a well-known voice say, anxiously, outside, " Wonder if he's here ? " And next moment the door opened, and in stalked George and Alick.

" Why, my dear fellow, we've had a bit of a fright," exclaimed my two mates, laughing heartily. "Two hours ago Meg-i'-the-Mountaic. entered the hut breathless, and all the answers we could get respecting you were doU ful shakes of the head and pointings up here from the forefinger of the withered-up old bag."

I then related to them the unique experietc9 (reserving only all mention of Meg), to which they both listened open-mouthed. Seeing I was a good deal bewildered yet, they refrained from questions.

Many days passed before I saw Meg again, and as I fancied she abruptly avoided the encounter I then sought to bring about, I felt it would be wrong and ungrateful to persevere in it. Yet for months afterwards I could not shake off the strange conviction, which forced itself upon me, that my brother Walter and Meg-i'-the-Mountain had something in common, but that I would never dream of mentioning to a soul.

Chapter 111. Meg-i'-the-Mountain's Secret.

Our claim was next the Germans' on Adelaide Point, and proved nearly as rich as that of Mine Vaderland's, which yielded its owners £1500 a man ia one month. Although gold was plentiful, firewood was extremely scarce, the only supply being small woods up the hillside. We were out of if,, and washiDg up early this afternoon (I remember we three got 60oz of gold for the day's work) we each set off with pack-slinp a away up a snowclad sidling rising steeply from our camp, to where the stunted pitch pines grew, some 700 ft or 800 ft higher. I was the first to essay the descent of the mountain — always a difficult operation, as with a pack one goes at the knees so. Although my bundle of sticks was heavy, my heart was light as I floundered away down the declivity, my mates following more leisurely. When half-way down I halted, Blung off my load carelessly, and sat down to rest, taking no heed where it fell; the next instant, my mates' chaffing laughter awoke me to the fact that they wera "getting at ma" for something untoward. " Look at your bundle, Jack 1 " now sung out George, half-con-cernedly. Thus enjoined. I turned to grab it, but too late ; it was a long way out of reach, and rolling over with increasing velocity down a snow- ridge; but as it was unfortunately travelling in nearly the opposite direction from the camp to where I had been baariDg it I up and after it, but had not followed far ere I sank to the armpits in the soft snow.

" This is the very ridge where old Meg so mysteriously disappeared last year," said George and Alick (who had come to my assistance), pulticg me out already half smothered. " There's your bundle, Jack, but it's not tojbe got-," said they, both laughing at my crestfallen appearance, and pointing it out some 30 yards along the ridge, where its course had been arrested by some obstruction. " I 's no use, old man ; and it's too late now to retura for another bundle ; besides, whcr>ar« your slings? So come on," persuaded they.

Taking a chagrined farewell of my bundle 3 , but inwardiv vowicg to have il itt, I had to follow woodless, as the ir.-V. was already coming on. Some dayq laler, there having been a succession of hard frosts, I ventured over the ridge for my sticks. The footing proved this time hard enough, so that I secured the bundlo ; but I never calculated that although the snow crest was strong enough to bear my own weight it might not be f-trong enough to hold me up loaded with heavy sticks. Had I done so the following occurrence would not have happened and this tale would never have been written. No

sooner did I stand up than the snow beneath me suddenly gave way, and down, down, down plunged sticks and I to the darkness of unfathomed depths. I had no time for thought even until I plunged over head into a pool of water, and on reappearing on its surface quite unhurt, although terribly scared, I found myself in a small creek, but out of which I quickly scrambled ; and, strange to relate, my first thoughts on reaching dry land were of Meg-i'-the-Mountain 1

" Brother Jack 1 " I heard a voice say, and ere I had time to turn about my thoughts had flown back to childhood — to that period when last I heard that same voice — to that night when brother Walter had bent over me and whispered brokenly through the hot tears raining down on my face : " Goodbye, Jack 1 You love me, at any rate — and I love you, Jack. I'm off to New Zealand. Dou't tell 1 "

With a thrill of awe I turned me about, and in the grey light of the snow-vaulted creek I beheld within a few feet of me the ayes of a motionless figure steadily fixed oa me.

The figure was Meg-i'-the-Mountain 1 My hair bristled whila I watched the apparition, and I b9gan to feel uncommonly queer. Suddenly the vUitor plucked off its long grizzled ha ! r, its fc-rcale garments fell to the ground, and an old man stepped forth 1 I knew him at once.

" Jack 1 " — " Walter 1 " and we were clasped in each other's arms. Need I tell the reader it was my long-lost brother ! No. Because I feel sure that it is already known. It would al3o take up too much space to relate the history of my brother Walter's wanderings, and his reasons for disguise as Meg-i'-the-Mountain. But whilst the reader may perhaps be Impatient to learn how I got out of the strange place, Walter is leading me down the creek bed towards the daylight and the open country below. Presently he halts opposite a high, black-looking rock, and pushing against its sidp, a door opens ; we pass in and h<s shuts it to. We are in total darkness. But Walter strikes a light and shows me the interior of a small rock-hewn vault. He strides towards a corner, and holding his lantern so that its rays fall on the floor thereof, says excitedly: " Look, Jack — they are all ours 1 " Stooping down I saw a large heap of glittering metal.

" What, gold, Walter 1 "

" Yes, Jack 1 " answered he fondly. " But had I never found you, none would have ever seen this. Now come to the hotel and get your clothes dry." And we were there in an hour and a-half .

Does any old Dunedinite remember four diggers coming into Danedin from the Old Man flange after the heavj snowstorm of 1863, with as much gold as each could carry? And if so, can they also recollect reading, some months later, of the brilliant wedding of a lucky New Zealand gold digger, an account of which was clipped from a Home paper and reprinted in the Otago Daily Times, then being edited by Julius Vogel and managed by B. L. Farjesn?

If not, Jack Bennett does ; for my uncle told me that brother Walter, the nuggets, and Emma all together formed a Ohristmas Box which it would be difficult to equal and impossible to excel.

[the end.]