THE FLOOD OF 1863,

Otago Witness, Issue 2168, 12 September 1895, Page 40

THE FLOOD OF 1863,

Br F. S. A., Waikawa.

It is a merciful dispensation of Frovidenoe which provides that the dark days of a man's life are soon forgotten in the brighter days that follow; yet there are incidents oocurring in the life of everyone that neither time nor change will ever effacs — incidents which transcend all the vioissitudes of our career in magnitude, and are sent as it were to remind us of our littleness and teach us humility. It is 32 years last Jane since the great Bhotover flood took place, and the horrors of that fearful event are freah in my memory to this day. I was camped at Arthur's Point at the time, and I never hear the name of that; spot mentioned without experiencing a feeling of dread even now. For a week previous to the day on whioh the disastrous event occurred the weather had been warm, humid, and sultry. About dusk the river begin to rise, slowly at first, and anon with ever-increasing rapidity, until at length the. approaching flood could be heard far op the river like the distant roaring of the surf on an open beach. A darkness that ooald be felt set in when night came on, and rain in deluge, swept before a pieroing wind, added to the general uproar. Nc one »lapt— no one could, so terrible was that night. Millions of tons of snow and ice, slackened from the mountains' sides by the warm sun, and bearing in their course rocks of enormous balk, rushed down the elopes with deafening noise, and as the accumulated masses plunged into the seething waters boiling in the fearful chasm far below, the very mountains seemed to tremble to their base. As night wore on these awful Bounds increased, and for a time it seemed as if the mountains were being torn to fragments by some power unseen, and hurled with might illimitable throughout all space. Huddled like cattle in a storm, the poor miners crouched beneath the overhanging rocks, unable to see a yard in front «6 them — uncertain as to the fate of their mates, uncertain as to their own fate, for the rocks which served them as a shelter might at any moment break from the mountain's side, and crushing them to pieces, drag their mangled remains into the dark flood whioh roared and tumbled at their feet. From overhead, from every side, boulders dislodged by moving glaciers shot past at interval* with the velocity of a whirlwind, and leaping and bounding from knoll to knoll, crashed into the roaring river, sending the spray hissing high into the air. Strong men, inured to danger from their youth, stood still, nor dared to move lest fate in its deadliest form should overtake them ; and no one spoke. Fear chained the lips, and naught but the thundering of Nature's voice among the hills and the fearful gurgling of waters in the yawning gulpb in front were heard amid the encircling gloom. Fifty feet m four hours the Shotover rose that night, and many a digger lost the number of his mess. There could not have been less than 8000 men scattered along the river bank at that time, many of whom were altogether unknown. In fact, so eager was each man to secure a portion of the precious metal that the welfare of those beyond the limits of his own tent or claim never troubled him. That many psriahed was proven by the dead bodies seen floating down the river during the day subsequent to the flood, but the most painfully sad calamity was the less of seven men out of a party of nine who were camped close to my tent. When the Aood first commenced to rise two of the gang became uneasy, and shifted all the tools from the river bank and most of the camping paraphernalia ; but their mates (those who sabBuqueutly were drowned) remained in camp, and made light of their companions' ! auxLefcy. When returning for the last load of tucker, and while within a few yards of the hut, the two men notio«d that their mates, evidently ashamed to tee the others doing: all the work, had got up, and were standing with lighted lanterns at the hut door, when suddenly the earth opened beneath their feet, and the whole terrace for a mile in length went bodily into the river, oarrying their hut, mates, and all their belongings with it. One agonising shriek that could be heard amid the awful turmoil of surging water*, churned to foam by the falling mounUiin face, and the river rolled on its way, dark as Krebus and gruesome a? an open grave. Oh I how the poor shivering diggers prayed for morning ! And when it dawned how willingly thay wonld have flad far from the fearful scene which stretched before them. The surface of the river was literally strewn with carcases of dead animals, and occasionally a living horse would sweep past, htruggling to swim beyond the current and reach the Bhore. How eagerly it would stretch its neck and look towards us as if to implore our aid ! Clutching a fluming box in his death grip, a fine, powerf al young man floated past ; his upturned face was blanched with fear, his eyes, glassy and wide opßn, stared as if to transfix the sudden chaos which in a moment had engulphed him. The dying scream of those poor wretches swept in one instant into eternity, the pallid, terror-stricken face of this bravo man, I hear and see again ; and were it my lot to live for ever, the horrors of that awful night would «ever be forgotten.