YOURSELF AT ASPIRING.

Otago Witness, Issue 2654, 25 January 1905, Page 33

YOURSELF AT ASPIRING.

By Victor.

The increased facilities for travelling through Central Otago and of visiting the lesser-known beatity spots — those off the i>eaten track — should lead many lovers of ihe beautiful and grand in Nature to follow in my footsteps; and, if that is the "case, the trouble of writing these few pages •of manuscript will be amply repaid by the knowledge that the scenes hitherto seldom fritted and almost entirely unknown have ;delighted other eyes, and their unfrequented f)aths been toed by willing feet. So much 4»j way of preface; now to business. Although Mount Aspiring, which" ~is looked upon as forming the most southern peak of me Alps proper, is regarded by connoisseurs as the most beautiful, and by olimbera as the most inaccessible, mountain in New to the vast majority of tourists, 'Home and foreign, it and its environs are a .terra incognita. It lies at the corner of ■SVestland,- Otago, and Canterbury, about 20 miles in a direct line north-west of the isouthem part of Lake Wanaka, and in latitude about the parallel of Timaru; that *vill do for ite geographical position. Its jaltitude is a little short of lO.OOOft^ and" its chape that of a wedge, rising up Head and shoulders above the surrounding- peaks, ' its sides ..in, places too precipitous for snow to •lie' ony in others covered 1 by great glaciers, tumbling from, cliff to cliff, showing a world of broken and twisted, ice and long lines of ice cliffs that gleam 'coldly blue under the garish light of a summer sun. But more of this anonV Our party oL. tmee left Pembroke on Monday, January 9, shortly after breakfast. JThe-Jady of the party rode in state in a «pring*-cart, owned by Mr M'Pherson, who lives at the foot of the Monarch of the South, which contained some provisions and. a scanty camping equipage; for, with i the hospitality of the Highlander and the j back-blocks settler, Mr M'Phereon, on hear- • ing of our projected visit to his corner of j *he world, had promised to do what he.) could for us. - The gentlemen followed later i per medium of the useful bicycle. . After passing round the- foot of Mount Roy and round the head of Glendhu Bay, we turned our backs on th© lake, and, v sweeping through Hospital 'Flat— an -amphitheatre-eurtounded i>y hills, rising in bush-clad .tiers from the plain, to. the rounded hummocks, clad in short green mountain grass and darker bracken that form their summits, — we came fco the, Matatapu — a stream whioh cam© up to our knees when fording it, and before us danced and sparkled a couple of waterfalls that hung gleaming on the mountain side, their roar reverberating through the hollow valley. We soon arrived at the Cattle _Flat Station. Here we left our machines;, a, "strong wind had sprung up, and riding further was impossible — not on account of the road,, -which, with., caife as to - the tracks, ,~ is negotiable , for s>icycleg as far as the Niger Hut, from" which point Mount 1 Aspiring -could- be opm-, fortably worked. Let no reader run away twith the idea that -because one is going toMount Aspiring he has to do wonderful feats in climbing and descending lnlls, and that the road consists chiefly of declivities; for, from Cattle Flat Station to Mount j Aspiring — a_ distance of 15 ■country miles, — j the ground is as level as the Tajeri ' Plain j from Outram to Mosgiel, as green as any cultivated paddock, and, in dry weather, country that can be walked or ridden over In almost any direction. So another good old superstition is -incontinently knocked on the head. While the two pedestrians are plodding along, head down, against the ihot wind that hurtles out of th© fiery north, knee-deep in self-sown, clover and timothy, .wading through a crystal creek that, having i dashed itself into spray over precipice after j precipice, here wimples quietly along be- • tween green banks decked with beautiful i wild flowers; now dodging round some j black, raupo-f ringed lagoon, each with its pair of Paradise ducks and their flapper ibrood, the young ones hiding deftly in the fringed margin, the old flying round the travellers, in simulated friendliness. You, clear reader, may borrow my eyes and look around you, leaving the white-pointed specks on the green solitude to forge their own slow way ahead. You are now facing north-west, or nearly so. In front of you stretches an emerald green valley, Starred with white violets and spangled -with yellow fouttercups. Th© warm wind blows into your wide-stretched nostrils the odour of whi^e and you listen, but vainly listen, for the hum of bees. In the middle clistanoe a herd of cattl© gives the scene •a touch of -life, 'and- somewhere from the "■left comes the faint bleating of "sheep; overlaeacl fly -svita lazy stroke the wheeling gulls, xound l you dart the dodging terns, and the ! piping dottrell, anxious for .their callow j fcropd, flit- round you and run off with trailIng wing, to lure yovi from the spot thatthey call home. So you are not alone. There •are beasts and birds, and the buzzing blowfly, the wheeling butFerfly, and the chirping cicada tell you that here the busy people cf the great insect _wqrld live their ap- ] ■pointed lives and die their appointed deaths. So much for your immediate foreground. ZjTow, look further afield. To your right iies th© Matukituki Rjyer, the -water invisible from where, you* stand, but a broad ibelt of grey shingl© tells where flows its -devious and changing course. Across this rises the huge herculean shoulders of Mount 'Alta. its head clothed in a coiffure of fleeoy clouds that stream out on the air like the ragged locks of some ageing demigod of the heroic ages. The snow-capped head towers ■up in cloudland far beyond your ken, but Siere and there long snowdrift streamers tang down from his white top, and his green sides are richly laced with silver jfcorrents. Further ahead, to your right front, his feet are bush buskined, and the dark line runs off till cut by a projecting spur. On yowr left rises Mount Niger. 'His stony peak, too, pierces into the fleeoy jboaom of ihe sky -and is at present invisible to mortals, but the huge snowfield lies white •beneath the frowning cliffs, here spectral ,an the shade of overhanging roof of cloud, ' here glistening like polished marble .where through a rift the strong sunlight beats fiercely upon its surface. Nearer at hand ;rise dark ice-covered bluffs, sometimes with projecting eav^s, sometimes- sloping backward tier after tier, the surefooted bracket climbing along its ledges and tip its scars ,jj.nd cr©viees. There, further ahead, is a "jdeep wound in the body of the mountain, a mighty gash made by th© slow working but) ymuch-accomplishlng forces of Nature : for Sow long, have ice and snow, wind" -an^l rain and sunshine gnawed and gnawed, wbblea ! and nibbled at that hug© inanimate giant of rock to mak© so deep a woimd^? now pueroifullr hidden hy the heaiipi giostwt

of the forest, from which, after much 1 falling headlong over black and beetling preoipices, issues a broad pellucid creek, rippling on to join the brimmingi rivec! Ahead of you is a high square | bluff, and when you pass that you will see another such and then another, for your way leads round the buttresses of Mount Niger. And beyond these a network of \ intersecting spurs leading down from thesei | high peaks, roofed in by the flying, windwoven fleeces of the sky; and there appears to be the end of your journey; but you know that often a good wide valley lies between spurs that at the distance of a few miles appear to be squeezed together, and you feel no fear for the ultimate result of your journey. Now, fearing not the fate of Lot's wife, for this is no Sodom and Gomorrah, but rather one of the Asphodel plains of Paradise, turn and look behind you. That beautiful purple mass walling out part of the horizon, its harshness sweetly veiled in its diaphonous blue robe of haze, is the Grand View Range : to your right rises the sharp ridge of Mount Roy ; nearer at hand another face of the Mount Niger Range, and between the two the long and narrowing valley of the Matatapu, reminding you of~the " hollow valley of Bagdad," where Mirza saw the vision of the wonderful bridge, with its three-seore-and-ten arches and its many trapdoors and pitfalls, through one of which. I and you, too, reader, must .fall from the Pier of Time into the Ocean of Eternity. But no moralising! Leave that to some more fitting season. At present the Breath of Life, blowing pure and free over and across the purifying mountains, is in our nostrils, and :: -earpe diem. In tjie meantime, while you, dear reader, under . the 'glamour and gramarye of my spell, have, been standing gazing round you at the lower end of Cattle Flat, our wayfarers have eteadily plodded many a pleasant mile and are now about to {urn the last bluff that hide<s from their view the Monarch of the South, and we can only overtake them by magic ; so I wave my mystic pen, mutter "Hey, presto!" and here we are, wading along an overgrown bridle track, knee-deep in fern, and wondering what the last of many turns will bring into view. The shoulder of, the hill comes, round we go, and there in front of us, five miles away, stands Aspiring itself, ita peaks hidden in the clouds, _ ita great snowfields now seen white .and spectral above its rocky shoulders, now hidden by trailing wreaths of mist. Nearer lies a fork of the river; across the grey shingle-bed stand the ruins of an old sawmill, and after a little plunging through the bracken we again strike the cart road and soon reach Niger Hut. It is a good place for us\to sit, smoke, and enjoy th© scenery. This is also a good place to pause in my narrative so that M? Editor may cut the " copy " to suit the exigencies of his space.

A short distance- beyond the Niger Hut, there stands the ruin of an old waybaek station,' once the " haunt of busy men," !now 'silent but for the sounds and cries of Nature. Once here the garden smiled; and now the garden flowers run wild, are playing the very deuce with~fche- country — one covering .the country for miles with its yellow flowers, choking out even the hardy bracken. What it is I cannot tell. We brought some _of the flowers, which are yellow,, with five petals, in to Pembroke, where a young gentleman took charge* ot them, intending to submit, them to a reliable botanist. The plant is known locally as "Mrs Cameron's weed," having been_ introduced into the valley hy a lady of that name/ a3 a garden floor. It look's something like ragwort, but conjectures will be withheld. From the Niger Hut Mount Aspiring can be -got at by crossing the river, which, except in times of rain or hot -winds, is no difficult task. Above the but, on the same side, is Hall's Bluff, round which a , good' bridle track has been cut, and about a mile further on the river forks, the right hand (the reader is now looking upstream) branch being called the Snowy River, the left hand retaining the name of Matukituki. Just above the Forks the latter flows in three channels, and when we crossed did not take us much over the knees. For the last three miles or so the Snowy River flows through a beautiful grassy flat, at the head of which the valley narrows, and the bush comes down to -the water's edge on both sides. Here was once a sawmill, now also a deserted village, and a couple of huts are in a good state of preservation, and would afford good accommodation for exploring parties, but in case they slept in them they should bring along a plentiful supply of insect powder, for the pulex irritans, or common flea, "is generally very numerous about deserted camps, and also as voracious as numerous. It would be- better to use the irate for storehouses and cookshops and to sleep in tents. The sandfly is pertinacious enough to murder sleep, without any assistance from- an unfed bush flea. , Pardon these little details, but they ai> important to comfort of the traveller. To the left, as one faces up the Snowy River, from the opposite side of the Matukituki, is a narrow gorge, bounded by beetling bluffs, through which the Matukituki breaks from the upper .valley, peculiarly its own, into that watered by its increased' self after the confluence of the Snowy. About a mile above this gorge is th© residence of Mr M'Pherson, which we made our headquarters during our stay, and where we were received with unbounded hospitality and kindness.

At this point one is properly among the mountains. At tho back of the steading rises, in sharp slopes and bare cliffs, the southern face of Aspiring, gaps in the, jagged spurs allowing glimpses of snowfields, seemingly huno| in the middle heavens. Across the valley, now narrowed, to about a mile in width, rises a precipitous green face, leading the eye up, up, to where the jagged pinnacles bite into the bosom of the sky., or to long white snowdrifts — a. green face of two colours, the lower half the bronze green of the sporing bracken ; the upper part the brown green of the mountain grass, out of which emerges fangs of black rook or shining, smooth, grey slopes of naked schist, where the. glistening mica is 6O plentiful that in the sunlight these rocky sheets shimmer like distant water. Up the valley is a long snowclad ridge. All along the steep mountain side the eye meets the- constant flash of _ spraying waterfalls, and a column of -what appears to be smoke marks the spot where "one falls from euoh a height that it patters down v in small rain, ajid the gusts of mountain wind blow up the spray until it resembles the spouting of a whale or Si " shot " of Waimangu. About eight miles above M'Phersons is the

ROB ROY GLACIER, Khjch K& ii§ited. yije .track, jg across tfee

river from the steading. At first it runs ; along a rich flat through a patch of dead tumatakauri or matagouri, then along a gentle • slope covered with beautiful native fiowcr3 i and a good sole of grass. Later it crosses an , old, creek- guttered moraine, winding round boulders and through a number of narrow little gullies, finally swinging down to the right, crossinig a bi'awling torrent and drop- , ing to the river opposite the valley leading | to the glacier. To-day the air is divinely i clear, the elotids of yesterday having fled > "leaving not a wrack behind," and the i southern front of the mountain is visible in a.:l its glory of pinnacle and peak, of bluo ice and white snow, of plunging waterfall, i and plumy birch. Through this ravine one sees the Rob Roy Glacier, with its crevasses j and ice cliffs, and strange marks on it ; j lookinig like the footsteps of some gigantic ; ' roe which had cooled its feet by strolling ; with Brobdignagian steps over the cooling snow. From this point of view the glacier , forms a sweeping semicircle^ or whiteness, j ! with a black rim of naked rock. J. i We cross the river and then the creek i , coming cold and cloudy from the glacier ' ' a counle of miles away. Here at the edge , of the bush we oamp and have lunch, the hollow of the gouge echoing- to roaring ' of the stream as it plunges headlong in l its course over rocks and among boulders, , pent on one side by a crag along whose ledges the slender beeches find precarious, footing, climbing up step by step until they Stand out in mid-air against our lower sky line: on the other by a steeply \ sloping hill with bush growing halfway up j ; it; steep sides. After lunch the sightseers < ' leave the level, scramble up through fern > and dead timber — for a firo once swept the h'gher faces — until, being above the bush, < better going is'found along the steep, grassoovered hillside. At last, after a little scrambling, a spur is turned, and the foot ,of the glacier comes m view. Here in 1 lonely and (dreary grandeur is one of Nature's worshops where "The mills of God grind slowly." The lower part of the glacier hangs over ! the edge of a, great dark cliff whose height j it is difficult to guess, as among such vast 1 surroundings one's usual =.tandards of com- i parison are useless ; but which cannot be , ,Jar, one way or another, from 1000 ft in /sheer altitude, the upper part projecting ; • o\er the base, so that a stream of water ', ' gushimg from the glacier leaps headlong into , mid-air, never touching the parent cliff ; j down, down, puking and throbbing- like a j thing instinct with life, and spreaoing out wider and wider until it is no longer a waterfall, but a shower of drops blown . about by the wind, a pattering on the talus at the foot of the cliff, even as a tropic, thundershower pounds the hard and arid land. And here, within .full view of this scene of savage desolation, springs a beautiful "Shepherd's Lily," its flowers drinking j |in the sunlight and dancing merrily iii the breeze. On round another spur, , j a scramble downwards through the shadybu3h and a burst into blazing sunlight . again, and here we are on the bank of the glacial creek and a short distance from the base of that awful cliff, with its pulsing waterfall dashing itself noisily on the ground, anS filling all the air with its thunder. We are now out of sight of that part of the main glacier immediately in : ' front of us. To our right more precipices, , • with, their waterfalls, sweep round till they j ■ meet the spur along which we have just come, and in the angle so formed lies a long ai-m of the glacier, from the base of which, out of icy caverns, issue the stream now brawling noisily at our feet. A short walk over and round boulders brings us to the foot of the glacier, where we stand and look about us. feeling on our faces an occasional icy blast from the "caverns' measureless to man," whence flows the milk-white stream. A short climb on the ice soon satisfies our curiosity. High up in mid-air we hear the groaning of the glaoier in travail ; we are evidently in a sort of dumping-hole for avalanches and odd hundreds of tons of rock-ico, and at the close of a hot, windy day things begin to move in these eerie corners. The thunder of an avalanche \ comes down to us from • somewhere up in the sky, and, taking to the i solid ground on the side furthest from the ' precipices and ice cliffs, we leave this valley jof wonders and battle along homewards j over the rough ground, ever and anon j stopping to look at the beautiful and aweinspiring panorama around, hoping that, now we were out of the way, we might see some enormous fall of ice or some huge avalanche thunder in hideous ruin down to the pit below. But no such luck. We slept well that night, I dreaming of an interminable phantasmagoria of cliffs, g-laeiers, and waterfalls. Next day we made a trip round by the old mill up the Snowy River, intending to visit the foot of the highest peak of Aspiring, where there is a small lake, fed by the avalanches tJiat slide down its steep sides. Unfortunately, the hot winds were causing the rivers to rise, and pur guide, philosopher, and friend did not oare about putting us over the river, as it would rise a lot ' during th* afternoon and be difficult fco oross on our return in the evening. However, from information received, as the police say, I can give a fairly true description of the journey, having seen all except a small part of it. Crossing the Snowy River just above the old mill, you proceed through the bus-h along a Government track for about two miles, keeping on the right bank of the river (looking vp — really the left bank) until you come to a sharp turn in the valley at the foot of a glacier-clad peak called Mount Ettriek. The track swings to the left ; you come out at the river bank, and there, one on your right front and one on your left, are the two great peaks of Mount Aspiring. That on your right is Aspiring proper, 40ft short of 10,000 ft high, its bare, rocky peak, too steep to hold snow or even ice, shooting up for 3000 ft or so above its snow and glacier clad lower slopes ; that on. your left, with its three black peaks like the points of a diadem, is Coronet Peak : between the two lies a narrow valley, rising up at the far end, by snow slopes, ice cliffs, and black precipice, to the ridge connecting the two peaks. The lower end of the valley is clad in bush, and midway lies the tarn into which both peaks discharge their waterfalls and occasionally huge masses of snow and ice. 'A party once camped on the shores of this tarn in a tent. During the night an avalanche earme down and drove the water out of the tarn over the surrounding country, deluging the campers, who, wet and cold, speedily shifted themselves and their dripping-, impedimenta to higher ground, where they spent the rest of the night drying themselves and their belongings round j a good log fire. "But," said my informant, j th© sight when the sun rose was well .' worth a, duelling." j • The day being vjery hgt, over 80 in the , shade, our party resolved to dp. but little. ,' .■After a white w fi dfitermiaeji to, jia^e £ '

look at the valley into which the M'Pherson Glacier (for so we named the one on the eastern face) discharges its debris. An attempt to penetrate to these fastnesses along the bed of the creek proved unsuccessful, as the whole of the narrow gorge whence it issued was at that time covered by the water ; so we scrambled up one of tho sfurs until we got a pretty good view. . It was pretty much the same as the place ' into which the Rob Roy Glacier discharges. : We saw tier on tier of beetling cliffs, with 1 waterfalls spouting over them and dashing down in spray into the gulf below. Long lines of ice cliffs showed where the glacier 1 hung on to the edge of an apparently : bottomless abyss; long crevasses ran hither | and thither throtigh the field of ice, and ' an occasional rumble like distant thunder J told of the fall of an unseen avalanche; 1 high up, cutting into the pure blue of a cloudless sky. rose the triple Coronet Peak ; I behind it swept a bare semicirclar ridge I connecting it with the peaks at the head of i"l-he Rob Roy Glacier ; and nearer at hand [ rose> the cliffs of the main mountain, severed from each other by deep abysses in which | lay long streaks of virgin snow. Above all stretched the blue sky, the roar of the creek 1 beneath, and the murmur of multitudinous r waterfalls filled the air like the many- ■ tongued murmurings of some shore where j ,The league-long roller thunders on the beach. We fiat for some time enjoying this wonderful panorama, and that one sight alone i would have amply repaid us for the little | incidental troubles of our journey to Aspiring. During this halt the sandflies , were very busy, and a continual flip-flapping i was necessary in order to keep them off; | but in spite of that they managed to get jto close quarters occasionally, and, like . Shyloefc, got their pound of flesh; or say, | rather, what the Jew of Venice could not j get — their drop of blood. | Another fine trip in this district is one to the ice caves, which the .exigencies of time prevented us from enjoying. These so-calied ice caves are at the head of the Matukituki, some 12 miles or so from M'Pherson's, being simply the usual cavities at the end of the western glacier of Aspiring, whence issues a large body of ice-cold water. It is possible to travel along the- bed of the stream under the icefor fomo distance; that is, at certain favourable seasons. A party visiting this spot could not depend upon this sub-glacial trip until they had seen and examined the so-called caves. As Mount Aspiring is only 25 miles from th& West Coast, a more enterprising party could make a wek's trip to the Coast and back over some of the saddles in the main range. Two persons are said to have made this journey without any difficulties other than those met with in travelling through rough and unknown country. The shortness of my stay at Aspiring prevented me from ascending any of the minor peaks of-*the long ranges that hem in the view on every side. Such an ascent could be easily accomplished in a day, and the resultant panorama of peak and range, of snow and ice, of valley and lake, would more than repay "the" "climber for Ins exertion. Among the peaks which would be seen from some such coign of vantage, as I have indicated, would be the twin peaks of Castor and. Pollux, Mount Stewart, Mount Alta, the i Minarets, Mount Hercules, Mount Earn slaw, and the dozen of other rceaks, named and unnamed, forming the last 100 miles of the Southern Alps. The visitor to Aspiring need not be afraid of finding nothing to see for each day of at least a week's stay. There are plenty of magnificent and easily accessible A person mounted on a good, steady-going, bush horse could see ■ most of the fine sights without getting out of tho saddle. | Of our homeward journey I shall say little. j We we're favoured with a beautiful, cloudless summer day, and many times and oft j we stopped to look at the glorious pano1 rama stretched behind us. We then saw [ Aspiring in all its glory, the crystal air | revealing and enhancing all its beauties, all its majesty, all its terrors, while round us i spread for many a mile .the odoriferous verdure of Cattle Flat, and it was with feelines of regret that on cycling round Glendhu Bay. lying below us as* placid as a baby asleep, that we finally turned our backs on Mount Aspiring, leaving its splendour and beauty to lie, beauteous as ever, but unseen by the eye of man. ACCESSIBILITY. Now, should anyone who has read my long, yet all too brief, description of * two-days' -visit to the Monarch of ihe South desire to, follow in the footsteps of my party the fiisfc thing lie or she would want to know is, "How am I to get there? | I would.l ike to go, but I can't afford the I money or the time to visit such outlandish and inaccessible places." I shall try, briefly as possible, to explain how to reach Aspiring quickly. Now, Dunedin contains many young fellows who travel about per cycle, and who are accustomed to camp out for a fortnight or so yearly. Let us suppose that a party of several such determine to visit Aspiring. Let them send their tent equipage on by waggon to Pembroke, consigned to one of the hotels there, about a fortnight beforehand. Provisions can begot in Pembroke. They should also write to one of the hotel proprietors to engage a couple of horses for packing and to carry them across the rivers. The hire of these would not be very expensive. Having made these preliminary arrangements by correspondence, the party should go by the Otaafo Central to Omakau, reaching Cromwell the same night. If the weather is favourable they will reach Pembroke by noon next day. That afternoon can be put in making final arrangements and preparing for an early start- next morning. The party will then reach the old mills on theSnowy River in good time to pitch oamp that night. Four or five enjoyable days could: then be spent in " doing " Aspiring. and the party could get home in three days, or, by a, bit of extra pushing alonat, in two days from striking camp, and a five-pound note each should be ample to cover the whole expense — indeed, it should be done for less, especially if tha party is large. The beat time to make the trip" is about Easter, when the rivers are 6teady and the weather generally calm and clear. Parties travelling by coach would go over the same ground and take the same time. The following is, roughly speaking, the stages and their kngth :— Omakau to | Cromwell, 32 miles ; Cromwell to Pem1 broke, direct route, 35 miles ; Pembroke ito Aspiring", 30 miles. Those who can I afford to do so can easily arrange for , vehicles and guides from Pembroke. The , ecenery of Lake Wanaka, it must be remem- ' tevgdj 7 |a vgry fine, and has always been.

pronounced by those who have seen bota t> be vastly superior fco that of the muchbcomed Wakar:pu. Strange to say, the Tourist Department appears to be ignorant of the existence of such a lake as Wanaka and of the scenic beauties of the Aspiring; district. Last year the writer while travelling from G'unorchy to Queenstown in the steamer came across a party of foreign — ■ that is, outside of the colony — tourists, who were highly delighted _ with Wakatipu, but who had never during their short sojourn in the colony heard that there was such a place as Wanaka. One of the present parLy who "did" Wakatipu on hia return from Aspiring tells the same tale, and in his opinion there is no comparison between the scenery of the two lakes — Wanaka carrying off the palm easily. Th« Tourist Department should wake up and remember that its duty is to make the best of all the scenic assets of the colony, and not to boom seme at the expense of the rest. Now that the Otago Central rail° way is completed to Oma-kau, Wanaka can be reached from Dunedin in two days, and will every year grow more and more in. public favour. What is badly wanted is aproper acknowledgment in official quarters' of its value as a scenic asset. The trip • I have just feebly described would, I feel sure, be surpassed by one to Mount Aspiring up the Wilkin Valley from the head" of Lake Wanaka. The Hon. Mr Hall- Jones, who visited Wanaka lately, promised to gel a hut erected at Aspiring for the accommodation of tourists ; but the building of a hut for tourists who are never told of Hie place is a somewhat suicidal policy. I have been over the far-famed Routeburn -track to Lake Harris, and thoroughly appreciated its beauties, but, unless I am much " mistaken, a track up the Wilkin Valley to Mount Aspiring would, in vulgar parlance, knock the Routeburn track Into a cocked hat. There is no doubt that the Wanaka section of the Cold Lakes only requires to be known better in order--to take its position ag the most popular tourist resort in Otago. Now, readers, I hope I have not wearied you, nor trenched too deeply on the eeditor«r r « space and patience. I only hope that my faint adumbration of the scenic beauties of Aspiring may lead some of you to follow ia my steps. If you do, I am not afraid of your judgment ; it will coincide with my own. Vale !