AN OVERLAND TRIP.

Otago Witness, Issue 2252, 29 April 1897, Page 20

AN OVERLAND TRIP.

SCENES OF DESOLATION. (By Our Special Reporter.) Napier, April 21. The drive from Kaikora last night gave some faint idea of the extent of the flood, and the Country side presented an eerie spectacle. The coach horses, many of which, had been standing deep in water during the flood, were very tired, and as most of them were grass fed they had only strength to drag their heavy loads Blowly over the silted roads. As we journeyed on lights could be seen flitting nboul the farmsteadings on the low lands. Here aad there au j upturned outhouse was seen by the roadside. '' The damage to the railways is not likely to be repaired under a cost of £40,000. The scone in , the back country for miles and miles is one of ! the utmost desolation. Thousands of acres are | covered with silt, and hardly a blade of grass is ■ to be seen. The stock on all the low-lying i lands are drowned, and many have been half buried in the mud. Fences in many place 3 are hung with the dead- bodies of sheep, j Occasionally the coach would stop, the driver remain for a few minuses in anxious consultation with a belated wayfarer regarding the con- I ditibn of a bridge or an embankment ahead, | and ever and anon the tree 3 of some farm BteadiDg would look darkly over the murky moonlit waters. " Oh, you haven't seen the half of it; you haven't eecn anything," remarked a local authority, as we drove up and secured the last beda lefs iv Gorman's Hotel at Hastings. "Wait .till you see Clive." Anrt sure enough on the morrow, long before we got to Clive, we began to see that his words were true, and it is difficult to realise the utter devastation wrought ou every hand by the flood. In company with the representative of ■ the New Zealand Time?, 1 left; Hastings early in the morning, and we WADEO THROUGH TO CLIVE, carry two cameras and taking many views en route. The mud and sluah were feet deep in the paddecka and on stveral places ou the road. The carcases of cattle, horses, pigs, and sheep bestrewed the plain. Mqst of the sheep, which had been caught in the fences iv great numbers, had been tkinned, and the skins hanging ou the fences and the red carcassa lying in the mud below presented a ghastly spectacle. Men wero busy taking cartloads of the skinned sheep to the bridge at Clive, from where they were tipped into the river and went floating down on the murky current to the sea. A etench was beginning to ri6e from the carcases of others that lay on' the roadside quickly decomposing in the tun. No doubt most oi' these carcases •will be carried out to sea, but many of them are being stranded on the Petane beach, and Already a sickening odour is beginning to rise from them, and an epidemic is feared. Still this is the only way to dispose of the dead animals, for they are so numerous that it would te impossible to bury them. AH along the way fences were washed away, and the sides of the road were strewn with numberless pumpkins, melons, turnips, potatoes, and onions. There are ornamental gateways from tome settlers" touEes with perhaps a horse or a dead sheep banging on the fence. Near at hand g&rdens were covered svilih silb and mud. In one place by the roadside btood a solitary and desolate-looking cottage, a hole in the iron roof telling only too plainly the means of escape Adopted by the family. IN CLIVE the condition of things was pitiful, and it was ■imply heartrending to see mothers of families sadly couttmplating the destruction of their household goods or hanging out sodden mattresses and Bilt-covered blankets to dry In the sun. The floors of the houses had iv many cases been covered with mud 2ft or 3fc deep, and, though this had been shovelled out, it was impossible to get the floors at all clean, for everyone who came into the house brought a further supply of the sticky mud. It was only with an aching heart that one could talk to tbn small settlers who had lost all their sheep aud cattle, or to the poor women who, with their skirts tuoked up, and in some cases, scorning all ideas of'mock modesty, barefooted and barelegged, went about their daily toil. "I am going to see if I can find a live horse. I know where two dead ones are, but there should be two others somewhere, dead or alive." "What are you poor farmers going to do," I asked one man who stopped to watch us taking photograph* of the surrounding devastation. ' " God only knows," he replied in a piteous tone. " You should see my place. I have lost everything." Near the bridge there was a little cottage, where the father, the mother, and one of the daughters were busily engaged washing the silt-laden blankets and mud-soiled, linen. They had their few sheep —a matter of 120 — , and these they had taken to a little plot of ground near their house that had escaped during the last big flood. But the water rose so quickly that they had to fly for their lives, and next morning fence*, garden, sheep, and many other of the belongings had been swept away by the insatiable river, and were by that time far out at sea. We wended our way through Clive, calling in at the hotel of Mrs M'Kay, who was so kind to many of the rescued people who took refuge in her hotel. The staff were busily engaged clearing up the remains of the debris left in the ground-floor rooms by the flood. Outside were some relief carts, and. «very few minutes the drays would pass with the swollen and bloated carcases of the skinned sheep on their way to she river. We passed on to FARNDON, where the well-known recreation reserve and tennis courts were covered with mud. Near jthe Farndon railway station the line was all torn up, and the sleepers, with the rails still .attaching, were tilted up on end in an ex \ baordinary manner. The stationmaster's house at Farndon was in a dreadful mess. His meatjsafe was on the road, and his furniture was gashed away. The office also suffered badly. flPhe bridge over the Waitangi was a wreck, pnly a few of the piles in mid-stream being left standing. The sleepers, with Jtails Attached, were hanging in the air »t either end. We were ferried across here in i, boat, and fitting down for a spell on the bpposite bank we lunched on a tin of sardines, Which I had opportunely stowed in my pocket before leaving. A little farther on was the big toMhonf; at the end of the lagoon. Millions of $ons of earth and gravel must have been washed from here clean into the sea. It is here that fche brave fellows who went in the boats to the iresoue of those in distress met their death. If they were passing at the time the washout txjcurred, it is possible that their bodies (which it was incorrectly reported had been recovered) lie buried in silt, or they may have been earriedftr out to sea. For miles along the coast

in a north-easterly direction we could trace the dirty waters of tho river in the ocean, so that in the latter case the bodies may yet be found on some of the beaches north of Napier. The tide was out, and we were able to cros3 ths small streams running over the washout from the lagoon. The seas roll in with great force ab high tide, and hamper to some extent tha movements of the boats. At Awatoto station, a little farther on, the water was 6ft deep in ths houses. We stopped to have a snack, but all we could get was some bread and cold, underdone chops. After seeing the carcases of so many skinned sheep along the roadside it was difficult to muster up enough ourage to demolish even one small chop, but hunger, which is the best sauce, triumphed in the end. While we ate, the woman of the house sat near by and told us of the ADVENTURES Or THE PAST FEW DAYS. The piano was liftad up on boxe3 placed on the dining table, and remained above highwater mark, but nearly everything else in tho rooms downstairs wss damiig-ed or carried away in the flood. E?eu knives aud forks wero swept away. The family fled to the upper rooms, aud remained there without food for two day?. There were four little children, and the mother managed eventually to get a few biscuiti for them. The relief carts with stores for Clive passed tautalisingly by, but at last the men folk gob away in a boat and got supplies. Then when the flood waters had subsided it was found that there was 2ffc of mud on the floors of the lower rooms. It took the men two days to shovel this out, and ab the time of our arrival they were hard at work barefooted and . barelegged cleaning up the silt that remained. The hard part of it : was that tho man and his wife had only come j into the hotel two or three days before tho j flood. While waiting here we v<ere passed by Mr R. 11. D. M'Lean, M H R., who was walking into Napier. Ho had been about amongst the sufferers, &ud no doubt m^ny of them profited by his unostentatious generosity. Captain Russell, who has also been about d)iug good work, passed us on his way from Hastings. Such, briefly, is a description, of our journey from Hastings to Napier. Nothing is exaggerated in tha slightest decree — in f act, ib would be almost impoboib'.e to exaggerate the terrible condition of things that prevails, and *HE MOST STINGY WOULD BK TOUCHED TO LIBERALITY if they could only see the homes of these poor people, and in some eases melancholy grey-haired women going despairingly about their deaolate dwelliugs. Sad to say, there wore •Himc inhuman fellows, *-,yen with wives and families, who, instead o' putting their ."boulder to the wheel, left, tin burdeu to tall ou the. shoulders of the weaker while they toughs forgetfulness in drink. One such we saw, Thcs mother, in no condition to walk a distance, and carrying a small child in her arajs wifi five others following at her skirts, started to walk 3u to Napier from a place about four mtJes distant, while (hf> father and husband, half in his cups, waited for the train. I ventured to remark about the inhumanisy.of some alleged men, and prepared for a blow in return, but the man proved to be an arr&nt coward, and started to argue-the point. At this our denunciation became only the more fierc«, and when my companion chipped in with a fey; equally forcible remarks, the man hung his head withouu reply, and walked away shdraefacedlj r after his wite, with one ot the children iv his arms. Our trip w&s not without i's humorotu features atao, bub the sad prevailed. There was light and shade, aud deeds of danger done and heroism displayed that lit up the gloom. There are many such deeda chrouieled as the days pass. At Omahu ou Sunday .sfcernoou, when a torrtnt of watur wan rushing down the River Te Ahua, a brave Wanganui Miori, being anxious for the safety of his wife aud little ones, decided to swim the river, the bridge having been swept away. Taking off his clothes, including an overcoat, he tied them in a bundle, and with tbij bundle held aloft in oue h&cd he commenced his psrilous swim. In the middle of the stream hia arm got tired, and he was seen to halt and change the bundle from one h»nd to another. Eventually he gained the other bank, half a mile below the point where he catered the river — a strange contrast to the conduct of the white man whom we had to shame into following his wife. There is an e.iger demand for the newspapers giving full accounts of the damage done. The iucal press have had to print second editions, and the New Zealand Times (which, with the Otago Daily Times and Cbristchurch Press, is the only other big daily that has a special representative on the scene) was yesterday selling along the line for half a crown a copy. There has been a block of pre»B work on the wires, and the mails have been coming in at irregular hours, but notwithstanding this the staff have stuck ab their potts, in some cases all night, snd under the circumstances excellent despatch lias been maintained. Only one wire is working to Wellington. The railway people, too, have been very smart in arranging, under great difficulties, the different coach and ferry services for the conveyance of through passengers and mails. Iv very few towns of the size of Hastings co^ld such a coach service hive been established at such short notice. Iv a few hours 30 horses with first-class conveyances were on the road under engagement with the Railway department.