WELLINGTON FROM MOUNT VICTORIA.

Otago Witness, Issue 2456, 10 April 1901, Page 70

WELLINGTON FROM MOUNT VICTORIA.

(By Jessie Mackat.)

It is a glorious morning as we stand on the &haip cone of Mount Victoria, and view the Empire City as it lies like a imp below. East, west, north, and south the land lies bathed in sunlight. It is no easy incline we have travelled : if one sent an orange rolling, methinks it would plump into the sea two minutes after. But the steep pinch of the hill i,s softened by the old-time springiness of tussock underfoot, though the serene^s of autumn is already on it. It brings a memory and a fancy — that whoever has not known the swinging abandon of a, gallop over mountain tussock has not lived. Now we reach the black paling of the Flag Station, and sink joyfullj on the grass, gratefully inhaling the salt zephyrs that blow from unquiet Raukawa — Kaukawa, the stormy strait, whose ancient Maori winds were ever bloiving sorrow to the fated south. Raukawa is blue and soft and smiling to-day, but cruel still. For what above all luied us up Mount Victoria this morning but a longing after the Kaikouras, which they said could plainly be seen from here ! But there is a licit haze abroad and the sharktoothed mountains of the Land of Greenstone are lost in a moist azure. As we look long and yet longer we aie suddenly aware of a ghostly presence and the cheerful stir of the pakeha city below is hushed to us. It is a ca,ptive Ngatimamoe woman who has climbed from old Te Aro pa to look for her native Kaikouras ; and she is cursing the illusion of sun and sea that hides them from her sight. Tha wind lifts the black bands of her hair ; sorrow has taught her to sing, but of that flowing Polynesian chant one can but hear tLa recurring burden, "Ab, ah, Raukawa !" Did she die here in old Poneke? Heaven pity her if she did.

Straight south is litfe Lyell's Bay, as symmetrical as if pinked out by giant scissors. Between it and us lies the world-for-gotten village of Kilbirrue in ics ba^in of thin scrub. Over a ridge, in a larger, rounder, higher basin, is Berhampore. One knows that the curve of the hill hides Island Bay — the one spot of Greater Wellington that South Islanders have ever romanced about, distance lending enchantment to the historic figure of the Hermit. One southerner, indeed, wrote a forgotten novelette on this mysterious personage — that errant political star, Timaru's own "Teddy" Wakefield. Wellington, one gathers, made no fuss to speak of about the anchorite within her gates. She would have made no more had he been a veritable saint of the Laura, instead of a one-sided seeker after the Thebaid ideal of sanctity and dirt ; but he was her own hermit and she knew best. The one romance of the Empire City has toppled in the dust ; the taciturn solitary has ingloriously deported himself to Queensland ; the bubble of his reputation is pricked on every side. It is asserted that he has relatives like other people ; it is whrspered that ceitain speculators maintained him all along at Island Bay for commercial reasons : it seems there was no warrant for cor^ideimg him a scion of English nobility. Straggling high on the barren hills is the snaky line of Biooklyn, hanging over the southern end of th*e city. Architecture works under dizzy and marvellous auspices here. We have just seen a house building over Oriental Bay, the back apparently hollowed out of rock ; the front door looking down a sheer precipice. There is no doubt that If the Tower of Babel in its original dimensions were suddenly let down into Wellington it would be surveyed in quar-ter-acre sections next morning, and a month later it would be crusted with hanging villas tier over tier. Brooklyn reminds one immediately of the rock-hewn cities of Arizona. If a cave-dw T ellmg Teguan were suddenly to wake in Wellington he would feel singularly at home.

Now we look full westward. Behind are the barren hills ; at our feet is the unlovely red and grey of the artisan city, beyond that a little is the narrow isthmus of houses about Upper Willis street which keeps asunder sea and hill, and joins the sordid human beeliive of Te Aro and Newtown to professional Wellington proper and elegant Thorndon. Far away are seen handsome churches and fine mansions. Parliament buildings, Government House. They are white and tinted and pillared and fine out there under Tinakori Hill ; but the working city below is a square and loveless chessboard of led and grey roofs, dusty, malodorous, sordid. Yet look again and consider the sign of the eternal red and grey. It is the strong and steadfast Puritan grey that rules the true workman's life — tLe cold grey that fences off the rainbow of illusion, the mirage of ambition — the twilight grey that is much of faith, much of charity, but little of hope. It is the warm sentient red of humanity, the heart's red that binds the poor together for no policy, no hope of gain, only for love. As one walks through the workman's quarter one discerns shining places. Here in the dullest, sorriest block is the hall of the Forward Movement. Here are friendly societies ; here are live, literary, unfashionable churches, Wesleyan, Presbyterian, Congregational — all busy and full as beehives, they say ; whereas not a few of the handsome city churches are summed up, even by their own adherents, as noble places to sleep in ! Here is the people's own pleasure ground, the green cqnare-of the Basin Reserve. Here the fuendly beat of Ihe Salvationist drum is most often heard. Lift the veil of sense a moment, and there is woi.-e unlnveliness than Newtown in the Empire City, sqiulor of the spirit far surpassing Te Aro. They spin many dazzling webs out Thorndon way, and spin them with sound and fniy. One ponders whether the«e webs w ill all stand w ind and weather. But the spinning of Te Aro is quiet and strong — not for a day but a world's lifetime.

Now we look due north and where VL,9 M^ewa&KAtU uulway abruptly dives j^to

the hill like the road of the Pied Piper of Hamclin.

Just beyond is the compact little village of Kaiwarra ; farther on is the cleft wheie nestles the fi«ier village of Naharranga ; farther yrt and we see the low- white cousin line which is Petone. Day's Bay. dear to the picnicker's h-Mrl, shows dimly near the mazy growths which indicate Wellington's plea'suie giound, the Hutt. In the glassyblue of the harbour mes the bare brown hill, tortoite-fchap:d. winch is Quarantine Island (Somes Island on the map). Over the Hutt rjses range after range, last and lnglie«t the majestic Tararua.. Close at our feet lies Oriental Bay, beloved of cyclists ; picturesque Roseneath is hidden 03- the brow of the lull.

Now we look east. Still the hoii/on is filled with ranges from the north, all runmng down to one brown point jutting into the Pacific — Caps Palliser. The Heads cannot clearly bs teen for overhanging hills ; on the "farther fcide Pencairow lighthouse lilts a ,<haip white obelisk to the sun. A stone-throw from where we stand a, yellow snake undulates along the tussock facing — ihe clay mad to Roseiieath (So we have followed the ccrnpiis round and with one last vain look for the Kaikovirus, descend uhe hill again.