FURTHER NORTH,

Otago Witness, Issue 2170, 26 September 1895, Page 45

FURTHER NORTH,

By Edith Searlh Gbossmanh,

Beyond Otaki the train passes by the great flax swamp, and then through dense forest again. There are primitive railway stations here, and the beginnings of small townships ; ffmall farms on the edge of swamp and bash ; and at some distance from the line, in halfcleared ground, are afe w sheep runs. Life in these wild parts north of Wellington and in Taranaki has one of its most primitive forms. The farms are not so muoh on naturally open land as on spaces formed by the continuous bush-burning and " bash-falling/ as it is lccHiiy called, which goes on here. I remember hearing of a bride being conveyed to her new home on a sheep run in a bullock dray through part of the Forty-mile Bash. Settlers here are buried in the bush, away from any other form of life, without sight or sound of any human being except their own households from month to month and year to year. They hold little intercourse with the Maoris, who are fond of settling near European homep. Familiarity has robbed the natives of all romance in the eyas of bush Battlers, who regard their obief characteristics rs dirt and laziness. Palmeraton North is the first considerable town after leaving Wellington. Unlike most of the towns on this line it has a thriving appearance, and owns several large hotels End hhop3. It is curiously built round a large opeu square, where a band was "discoursing" more or leas swett strains the warm summer evening I was there. The land about the town ie, cf course, cleared, but an eaey wulk brings one to a bridge over tbo Manawatu rivor, wharo the bush clo£O3 in again. Tbe beat thing to do at Palmorstcn is to get up enrly in the morning H»d take the first coach through the Manawatu Gorge. A pleasant drive past uplands and slopes, with here and there a cornfield and farmhouse, briDgs the traveller to one of the prettiest inns to be found iv New Zealand. One feels an almost irre&islibla desire to fctay here tor a week or two just on tho opening of tbe gorge, bill-slope and buth and river stream in view. As for tho gorge, opinions are divided. It is one of the "show" places of New Zealand, and tourists who bave travelled in less known paiti will declare there are dozens of gorges incomparably more beautiful. When all ia y&id, however, it is still one of those scenes whose loveliness is beyond description. In the rich light and glow of a summer day the steep hillplope opposite wear* a purple haze, the folioge on tho nearer eide g'e&ras and glitter!*, tho clear river has a greon tint of its own, tho windings of the road round pro- . montoms »nd in recesses of the hill leave behind fresh xn<u»?«fl of shado and light. The train journey cannot be anything lika equal to the old coach road, and the slo,peß must now have lost their beautiful woods. Ths river flows sheer below tho road. It looks as if one rnig\t easily overbalance oneself into it. The railroad hore has been ms.de in the face of ill omens ; no sooner was ono part completed than dowa csme a landslip and wrecked it, from which the coachman Datnrally concluded that its construction was a clear flying in tho face of Provinence. On the other pido of the gorge is Woodvillo, a picturesque townßhip almost encircled by wooded hills; on the more open sida are cornfuldß, and small farms with patches of the bush still remaining in their midst. Returning to PAlcnerston, the journey north is continued in a Government train — the Manawatu line belonging to a private company. From this point the forest beCMnea less dense, aud there aro large spaces of comparatively clear ground and savoral small towns on the lino. Up to Palmerston, when the country people talk of "town" they mean Wellington ; beyond that for Borne distance north, W^t g.'*nui. Wußganui deserves a longer description than there is room for here. It is built amongst little bill*, so that to Eec it one must be always climbing up or down. On* hill, if I remember rightly, c#Hed Flagfctj.fi: Hill, has a signal station and a fine view over tho yellow, foaming river and estuary away to the sea, and inland over tbe trees and buildings of tbe town itself away to tbe surrounding slopes of yellow tussock. Seen from a height, the town looks almost as ranch garden as fctieet There are large open spaces and hillsides planted for the benefit of the townsfolk ; one of tbe pleasantest of these leads by a winding path through a grove of fir trce3 and Englibh oak up to an open summit, where one can see the town from another point of view. In fact, Wan*ganul is nearly all "views," as it is little tnore than a group of hills. The -gardaus Dreatha pleasantly of the north. There are great magnolias out in bloom, and the scarlet rjom<"granate flowers in the open air. The Joad past the cemetery runs through level ground, and is a pretty if a melancholy walk, shadowed here and there by tall ttees. A short train journey takes one down to the beach, where the muddy estuary stains the sea waves. Wanganui has the air of being something of an " old world " aristocratic town ; such ideas being purely relative, and Wang-anul comparing itself with the upstart little townships and the rough primitive life along the line. It has something of a history too of )ts own in connection with the Maori ware, are the graves of half-forgotten heroes fit the early days ; a monumental pillar urn on g the trees in a public square records their names and tells briefly of their death. The Wanganui river whore it flows past the town is a wide, deep stream, whose banks are for some distance low and accessible. Down this stream the Maoris come after shearing, with their wool in sacks and piles. Thßre had been a flood when I saw them landing in their roughly- built boats, and many were drifted past the bridge. They same in hundreds— huge, brown -skinned fathers and laughing mothers, boys and girls, and babies and dogs— all pell-mell ; with 6uoh )k clatter and a talking ac only natives out for 'a holiday could make. They camp out on Jhe river bank, where the babies crawl over "the piles of wool and the women cook by the camp lire, and tbe men plaj cards or ait "jpmoking at the tent door, or " bang " about fcotel doors or chaffer in the. town, stores,

! The women's shawls and skirts of orimson or scarlet or green among the white tent roofs make bright patches of colour along the river bank below the bridge. They inundate the town and make an odd dash of Bohemianism in its quiet civilisation. Wanganni has provided amply for them—unfortunately. The number of hotels is simply astonishing, and obviously out of all proportion to the inhabitants. However, they seem obiefly confined to the street along the railway lino. Everything in Wanganui aims at being the best possible— a laudable ambition. We were told of a public garden with fountains, and I know not what else, but after roaming all over the visible parts returned baffled. Still we had faith, for in a town of hills what may not lie concealed at the bottom of some inaccessible valley 1 Besides, the picture of this magnificent domain decorated the hotel diniug room. Wanganui Boys' College has long held a bigh place among Now Zealand high schoo's, and the Girls' School bids fair to rival it. As for accommodation, no traveller oould wish for more quiet comfort, and evon luxury, than the Rutland Hotel provides. A governor— Lord Onslow — once stopped here, and the place has never" lost the viceregal aura then and there imparted. One may dine here of venison (which honestly to tbe uninitiated is not inviting) and hothouse grapes, forget the drunken Maoris at the bar, and enter and exit through a glaoa vinery. As for boarding-houses, they appear to be so select that there is no finding them out at all.