THE LEADER EXPEDITION IN FIORDLAND.

Otago Witness, Issue 2164, 15 August 1895, Page 50

THE LEADER EXPEDITION IN FIORDLAND.

By MALCOLM ROSS, N.Z A.C. '

No. 111.

Our forebodings a^out the weather ware premature. Monday, 29bh April, was a day to be remembered. The mist wreaths that lay athwart the mountain heights slowly vanished, as if by some magic, and the magnanimous sun shone down into our valley, where the snow still lingered. After a late breakfast we started for the falls, about a mile distant. The track is through a beautiful piece of forest, but the views are somewhat circumscribed. At length we get our first glimpse of the Sutherland Falls, and in a few minutes we are standing on the verge of the bush close up and in full view of the euormous column of falling water. The first feeling is one of disappointment, for the falls can hardly b9 called beautiful, and we have become so used to the gigantic surroundings of the Upper Clinton and M'Kmnon'e Pass that these falls seem only in keeping with the scenery, and not at all abnormal. The longer wegaze and *hink about it, however, the more entranced we become with this great na ural wonder. The sun in shining, and a rainbow glimmer* in the spray. Proceeding closer to the fall, wilh a view to going round it and out at the other side, we note that this rainbow gets smaller and smaller, and approaches newer and nearer to a complete circle, till at length there is a perfect glory round our head, and we look, in our own ostimation — for the others do not see the rainbow in the same light— for all the w*rld like Borne modern pilgrim marching into Paradise with a halo and a wet macintosh. But it is after a heavy warm rain that the falls are seen to greatest advantage. Then the volume of water is doubled or trebled, and, as the gigantic column sways back and forward with varying note in the passing wind, we gaze long and wonderiugly with a strange fa»cination at the Sutherland Falls.

Some of our fellows went for a climb up to the foot of the first leap. This is supposed to be rather a risky and difficult undertaking, but they found it so far an easy climb, and judged there would be no difficulty in reaching the bop. From there, as we saw from Mount Balloon,' the glacier could ba easily reached, and no doubt also the summit of Mount Sutherland, from which point a splendid view of the surrounding scenery would be obtained. In the afternoon we decided to liberate one of the carrier pigeons we had taken with us, and all hands turned out to see him start on his difficult journey by a route he had not previously travelled. We watched him wheel around several times, going gradually higher and higher, till at length he made a bee-line over the pass, and was quickly lost to view. He reached Dunedin in due course, but the message we had tied to his leg w*s missing. Another pigeon the one tnat had rtou uch a good performance from Mount Cook iv Nuvunber — was libratsd by Mrs Roberts from Lake Hanlrinson, near the north-west .arm of Te An&u, and again made a very quick journey. Both these birds are owned by Mr Bertie Hodgkins, of Dunedin, and their performances from Mount Cook and the wilds of Fiordland are amongst the most difficult hitherto recorded in New Zealand. In the afternoon Kenneth and I decided to have another "shot" at Mount Balloon, as, baring geen the mountain from this side, wt

were now more confident of success than ever. Our plan was to take some provisions, climbing appliances, and the sleeping bugs, and camp on the fringe of the bush near the saddle, so that we might get an early start ao the actual climbing. The nights were rather cold for sleeping out in the open without a tent, but I had seen too much of so-called early starts from huts where there are warm beds, and I decided to bear the inconvenience for the sake of the extra hour or two's daylight that I knew we should gain. Ziele decided to come with uo for tha sake of the experience, new to him, of camping out in a sleeping bag. Fyfe was still a martyr to neuralgia, so he decided to remain in the hut, and start as early as he could on the off chance of catching us up in tho morning. We left the hut about 4- in the afternoon, and plodding along the track till we had climbed a little over 1000 ft, we came jasfc at dusk to a spot that offered a suitable camping ground. A small stream trickled through the bush near at hand. Lower down we could hear the ceaseless murmur of the waters of Roaring creek, and over the tree tops immediately below us we got a glimps of the frowning precipice? of Mount Elliot. Kenneth lit a great camp fire right on the path, and whils I built up a rude platform of branches and twigs,' Ziele busied himself cutting the fronds of Todea superba and other forus, so that we should have an easy couch. It was dark before we finished, but we continued our operations by the aid of the firelight, and at 7.30 p m. we crawled into our sleeping bags for theuight. The cries of the kiwi and kakapo sounded close by ; the fire crackled on the path near at hand ; while above the monotonous lullaby of Roaring creek and all the other noises came, every now and then, the roar of an avalanche from the Jervois Glacisr just across the valley. Two kakapo 3, half flying, half running, rushed past us through the bush, and the shrill whistle of a weka on the slopes above was answered by the quack ! quack !qu *ck ! of a blue mountain duck in the creek below. Then a wind began to sigh ominously in the trees, and a falling barometer warned us of further defeat. But our bed was a comfortable one, and the old campaigners, at all events, were soon in the-land of dreams.

Towards morning I was awakened by our friends the kakapos, who in their frolics seemed to forget the respect; due to the featherless biped, and .scampered right over my head. Putting out my hand half an hour or so later, I felt a gentle rain falling and noticed a sm»ll pool of water in the folds of Ziele's sleeping bag. The weather had again broken, and there was nothing for it but to retu-n to the huts and try another time. The mist was thick in the valley and all the mountains were blotted out, but the booming of the avalanches indicated clearly that the Jecvois Glacier was still alive and kicking. We waited an hour after daylight, and then, squirming out of our sleeping bags, made a hurried breakfast and marched off in single file down the track to the Beech huts. Oa arrival there we found that Fyfe and Hodgkins had started down the Milford Sound track to see if they might by any chance fall in with the Government road-making parby, who we knew must be camped not many miles away. Hodgkins returned in the afternoon with the intelligence that a party of 14 men were camped about a mile and a-half down the valley, that they had almost! run short of provisions, and bad be?n for some weeks without news of the outside world. As tha day wore on the rain came, down heavier and heavier, and by night-time we fully realised that the climate on the western side of the divide could be " demned moist and unpleasant " when it chose. Our supply of bread now ran out, but luckily we had taken some flour over the pass, and my wife was kept busy b iking scones to supply the wants of six hungry men with fully developad appetites. It was rather interesting to watch the evolution of the methods of csmp cookery, but let us hear the cook herself on so important a matter: —

•'It was with some trepidation," she says, " I decided that afternoon to bake some bread. At home I am considered a good cook, even by those who suffer under my experiments, but hero things were different. My tourist suit struck me then, aud even after, when cooking, as incongruous, but one waa obliged to put up with that and other drawback*. The commissariat department included self-raising flour — one is fairly sure of a success with that, — and I was fortunate enough in this hut to find a tin basin to mix my dough in.

•' My husband had before starting objeoted to the handle of the qommon domestic fryingpan which figured among our utensils. It was decided to break it off and put two curved handles across. To mske it still lighter only one of these handles was brought, and the consequence waß that the pan, if anyone winked or aoughed, tipped up suddenly. My dough looked beautifully light as I patted it gently into the hanging pan. Stokers there were in plenty, and I felt sure of success as I saw the cream-white bubbles rise on the surface. Two of the party were building castles in the air, sitting on the bench in front of the fire, gloating over the idea of fresh bannockw for their tea. For but one moment — one hapless moment — 1 left my scone to wagh the basin at ths door, one short step away from the hearth. When I returned, the pan had ignominioualy ejected its contents into the very middle of the fire, and then had righted itself again. I demanded of the two, who still sat gloomily gaz'iDg, why waa this thu?, but they told me they thought I was running this show, or words to that effect The three of us set disconsolately to work with spoons to fish up some of the dough. I deposited a spoonful or two of it in the fryingpan, where it burnt, and smelt so strong that one man came rushing in with his appetite in full play. 'Well,' he said cheerily, • how did your scone turn out ? ' I turned solemnly, spoon in hand. •' It did turn out— itself," I said, mournfully. They were very good over this first faux pas in camp cookery, and did not chaff me unmercifully. I hid the charred remnanta at the back of the meat tins. I only hope they injured the rats. I noticed they were not so numerous the second night as the first. If so, I have not suffered in vain.

" It was always interesting on arrival at a hut to inspect the kitchen utensils. As a rule it did not take long. We left the hapless fryingpsn behind us in the MinUro hut, hoping to find in the Beach huts a substitute. I pounced eagerly upon thres small cake tins there, and determined to utilisa them. They did very well, though of rather thin metal ; and an enamel plate I also used returned from the furnace minus the enamel. Of course, these were simply placed on the embers, which had constantly to be raked out from beneath the great mossy logs at the back pf the fireplace. Now again culinary^ operations had to be stopped, as the wooden chimney had a little habit of going on fire : but a man inside with one bucket of water, and another outside with another, soon extinguished the conflagration. We got quite used to it at last. It was terrible hot work raking out the embers and watching the bread, and I always got a volunteer for thab. I sort of superintended. These scones were really very good, but the beat plan was hit upon towards the end of our trip. One awesome night, dark as pitoh, when I lay awake in the

ladies' hut and listened to the rain pouring an 4 the rush of Roaring creek as it carried its rainY swollen waters into the Arthur river, my thoughts veered round to tho perennial scone? The rats thit night were holding high carnival, : They had discovered some figs in my swatfj Among the bric-a-brac in the men's haCS which was our • kitchen, dining room, and! drawing room in one, I had noticed a frjingpaS with a large hole in the bottom. This inverted over the baking tins, a piece of tin covering tha hole, and then thickly covered with hot embers* would be a great improvement on oat present method, and this also would s»va the trouble' of turning. Next day, when tried, this proved! a great Bucceas, and muoh lets bother than tha other way. La nuit porte conseil, the Frenoli say. It was so in this case."

It rained heavily all that night, but on tha following day it cleared somewhat after 12 o'clock, and as our provisions were getting low three of us started for Butler's camp on a foraging expedition. After the heavy rain the streams were all in high flood. What were dry watercourses two days before were now mountain torrents, and the track in places was ■ running stream. We had some difficulty ia fording one of the cresks, the, watee runniDg strongly waist deep ; but after some floundering about we got safely across, and soon arrived at the roadmen's camp, where we were most hospitably received. The men— mosbly We'sb Coasters— had been here for six months, and having been favoured 1 with exceptionally fine weather, they bad dona excellent work, and had made good w»geß'. The situation, however, waß not without; its disadvantages. Provisions were at a low ebb. At one time they had run out of tea, *nd had! to be content with hot water, while now they had neither sugar, butter, nor jam, but were obliged to re6t satisfied with dry bread and tinned meats. In addition to all this they had a cook who had evidently not studied in, Paris, and, to put it mildly, was just a little eccentric. Near the cookhouse we noted in pasiing • cr. oked log, partially hollowed out, and learned that this was a primitive canee which this genius of the cook shop was faehioning for the purpose of making a voyage to the better land. It would hive been a cranky craft in any case, and, had he trusted his body to so frail a craft, tbere can be no doubt that his contemplated journey wonld have been somewhat shorter than he anticipated. However, instead of voyaging on the troubled waters of the Arthur river he wandered off at midnight down the track to Lake Ada. Ha returned next day, but went to bed, and refused to cook._ When asked what possessed him to make this midnight journey, he merely remarked that he had heard the Lord calling him. Some of the men wished he had gone in his canoe.

In the afternoon, being anxious to Bee how the track bad stood such a' flood, I walked down as far as the upper boat landing in company with Mr Butler, who had the superintendonce of the work, and I was agreeably surprised to nod that there was not a break in the path anywhere. The valley was a wonderful eight after the heavy rains. The Arthur river, swollen to three times its normal size, roared over the rapids or flowed silently along the deep reaches that we saw every now aud then through the beech trees, while down the granite walls of the valley hundreds of waterfalls, many of them rivalling both in height and beauty the far-famed Sutherland Falls, came rushing madly — A land of streams ! Some, like a downward smoke. Slow-dropping veils of thinnest lawn, did go ; And some thro' wavering light* and shadows broke, Rolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below.

We thoroughly enjoyed this day's outing, tnd returned to the Beech huts early in the afternoon to find a rising barometer and lose a good appetite begotten of exeroise and fresh air. On Thursday morniDg we started. The rivers had gone down and the clouds were light and fleecy, revealing here and there glimpses of blue sky. We halted at the cimp to take a photograph, and after our good friend the cook had regaled us with curry and rice, dry bread and sugar les3 tea, the battalion once more started Milfordwards in single file. Mr Butler kindly allowed us the use of his large wbaleboat, and he and two of- his men cams with us down the rivet and across Lake Ada, else should we have had no little difficulty in getting down to Milford Sound. The rapids of the Anhur were barely perceptible, the river being iv flood, and almost without exertion we glided down the rivet and entered upon the placid .waters of Lake Ada.

Lake Ada has baen formed by a dammed river— it has been a dammed river ever since. The tree tops of a submerged forest joit peep above the surface hers and there, while cuun.trless snags, hard as iron, lie just beneath its placid surface, ready to shipwreck the unwary boatman who does not know his way across. A path has, however, of late, yean been out or sawn through the mags, and is murked by iron rods stack into the uncut snags at the side. If the boatman keeps these about 20ft to larboard going down, and the same distance to starboard cooniug up. his friends or relatives may in the future still have a chance of liquidating his funeral and testamentary expenses. If, on the other hand, he neglects this precaution, they may be saved the former expenses However, whan we crossed the lake it was one unbroken sheet of water, in which the mountains were reflected, and not a suag was visible. At the foot of the lake we stopped for lunch, and, after saying good-bye to our convoys, we shouldered out swags and marched once more down the valley on a well-formed track to the lower boat landing, about two miles distant. There we found one boat and a "flatty" submerged in the water. We baled them out; and embarked—* four in the boat and three in the "flatty"-— for Milford Sound. The rapids of the .river had given place to quiet reaches, and the valley broadened out Down we sailed into fair> land, over the mountain tops mirrored below us. We were not sure that we had taken the right oourse till one of the rowers tasted the water. It was brackish, and we knew that at lest wa had reached our go&l, and were paddling over the head waters of Milford Sound. On out left, the mountains, clothed with exquisite bush, frowned down on us ; ahead on the right they rose in stately grandeur more distant. In out dingey Kenneth and I paddled leisurely, while Ziele steered, and Fvfe baled for dear life. Three or four hundred yards behind came the "flatty," waltzing about in a meat unuautical style. It was a perfeot afternoon. No wind stirred the waters, and no sound vexed the hushed air save the plash of our oars and tha swish from the baler's can. It all seemed unreal — a pleasant dreamland, a land in " which it seemed always afternoon." We saw the gleaming river seaward flow From the inner land ; far off, three mountain tops, Three silent pinnacles of aged snow, Stood sunset-flushed ; and, dewed with shdwery drops, Up clomb the shadowy pine above the woven copse.

Suddenly the curving foam of the Bowea Falls Qashed into sight, and an involuntary shout of delight and admiration arose front both boats. Then, rounding the last promoo*

tory, we came from the dark mountain shadows of the narrow valley into the gleaming sunshine of the open sound.

(To be continued.)