CENTRAL OTAGO SNOWFALL LONG-DELAYED THAW.

Otago Witness, Issue 2842, 2 September 1908, Page 23

CENTRAL OTAGO SNOWFALL LONG-DELAYED THAW.

HEAVY MORTALITY AMONG STARVING STOCK. HAWKDUN AND KYEBURN LOSE 50 PER CENT. BLACKSTONE SETTLERS PETITIONING FOR RELIEF. THE EFFECT ON SHEEP-FARMING. i (By Oub Special Ivzpobtsb.)*

"They talk about the-Taieri floods," said the manager of a big mercantile house to me ©n Saturday ; " why, that is nothing compared to the damage that has .been, and is. being, done in Central Otago. You must see the country before, you would believe it." ( Forthwith, I came to Central Otago. I have been over only a little pieos of it so far — from Ranfurly round Upper and Lower Kye'burn and Naseby, and thence to St. Bsthans, — but the effects of the snowstorm, as a criterion of ' what is being suffered by the whole , of the country affected, are" appalling. And there are worse things afoot. The impression is general outside Central Otago that to a great extent the snow has disappeared. This ie qu^te wrong. As seen from the railway, the country from • Waipiata onwards is still hidden under a thick white mantle. It is not so deep as it was seven weeks ago. for it has been slowly melting; but to the landowner, and more particularly the owner of stock, the situation is not one whit more desirable than it was in the early days of July. It ie, of course, easier to -move about the country. The railway line is clear now, and some of the main roads are quite passable, but these are only black streaks through great snowy wastes. From Wedderburii Station, for instance, there is nothing, as far as the eye can reach, but thousands of acres of dazzling whiteness, bounded by mountains that stand out sharp and cold in the clear atmosphere of Central Otago. To the southward a few open faces show conspicuously, but a closer examination proves them to be Weak and bare, their barren* surfaces broken only by an, occasional tussock and a few lichen-clad rocks. To the spectator the mountains are magnificent. They stand around like the masterpieces of an Arctic god. their serrated edges gleaming against the sky, and the intense white of their surfaces taking in certain lights a wonderful bluish tinge that is beautiful beyond description. Central Otago, in its present state, is well worth a visit, by the artist and the sightseer. . But to the practical-minded man those-snow-clad mountains have another and a deeper significance. Altogether there are, in one block, thousands *>f square males of highlands under snow, and, scattered about in all sorts of inaccessible places throughout this great 6lice of country, are hundreds and thousands of sheep — dead and alive. The highlands of the South Island, comprised in Otago and Canterbury, are the home of sheep-farming in New Zealand, and the particular fates which conspired to form the snowstorm selected as their area the very heart of this country, with the result that such a blow has beeA dealt the industry as it has never experienced before, and from Which it will take years to recover. Every man who owned stock in the enow country, as it is called, is a sufferer, and the big station roan and the lit/tie runholder are alike heavy loeersi As soon, as the Rock and Pillar Range came into sig&t on Saturday, I began to hear what are seemingly interminable tales of lost sheep. There are a number of stations near Middlemarch, and on each of those there are sheep buried in snowdrifts in numbers that cannot be correctly estimated. But, comparatively, those sheepowners have not such great cause for complaint. The Rock aaid Pillar Mountain amd ranges adjacent thereto have only their tops covered; the flats- and valleys' have , escaped, or, rather the snow has daeapi peared therefrom. The percentage of losses, therefore, cannot be great, and the pastoral ists have tlie added advantage of being i able to maintain their flocks in fair condition on the plains during the remainder | of the winter. As the -train mounted into I higher country, however, the' snow crept j from the "tops" down nearer the valleys, and, as Ranfurly was reached, it was lying thickly on either side of the line. Most of the farmers hereabouts run a few hundred sheep, and practically all have lost a number. In some cases the animals saved have been sent to clear country down Middlemarch or Patearoa way; but the sheep that remain must be fed, for all meadowl&nd is under snow. The resources of many farms, have been severely taxed to provide, for the animals, and, in the case of those adjacent to the railway, the privilege granted by the Government of the free carriage of fodder for starving stock has been largely availed of. The state of the country, however, does not allow it to be carted any distance. # KYEBURN STATION. The following morning I started on horseback, via Lower Kyeburn, for Kyeburn Station, which was said to be, in the words of one man, " wiped out." That such a state of affairs was possible became easy to believe, as one drew in towards the j foot of the Kakanuis. The snow gradually deepened from 6in to nearly 18in on the flat country near the mountains. Much had disappeared, evidently, for this land was supposed, seven weeks ago, to be under sft to 6ft of snow. It was frozen Bard, and in a few places the crust would bear my horse. All about were evidences of the sufferings of the birds and beasts that follow in the track of man, but acknowledge him not. Beyond the sparse tussock an<3 the rough grasses that constitute the meadow of this country, practically the only other thing- that grows is a species of stunted gorse. very dry and very prickly. These small bushes were not covered by snow, and they furnished a welcome means of sustenance to the rabbits and hares, ! of which there were hundreds scampering about on the snow. Beside the track I saw dozens of bare gorse stems: the coarse foliage and smaller branches had gone to keep the life in bunny and his

more dignified elder brother. Dead rabbits ' were everywhere. Hunger had made them weak and slow, and the field hawks, rendered bold and savage by the severity of the winter, found them an easy prey. At one place I saw a thin grey rabbit racing, , squeaking, and terrified, across a enowy , ; slope, while, black and swift like fate itself, j j a. ha-wk enooped el-own upon ijim, Tll-e ' tragedy was over in a moment. " A louder j ! squeak, a sharp struggle, and then the hawk - raised his cruel head and gazed calmly i around. j It was 14- mi lee to Kyeburn Station, but 1 the journey took over five hours. The' homestead appeared to be situated in the middle of the flat country where the enow x was deepest, but standing in a wide expanse of monotonous white it formed a pleasing rest for the eye. My horse was a big, strong animal, a veritable "snowsmasher," but I believe had the distance been 15 miles i instead <5f 14-, I must have completed it on foot.' The sight of the station was evidently as gratifying to the aftimal as to me, though for a different reason, and he struggled gamely through the last mile of deep, almost unbroken snow. I presented my letter of introduction to Mr Sinclair Andrews, the manager, and received a genuine station welcome. 1 was esconced in a cosy chair before a cosier fire, and while my host^searched in a certain cupboard he told me that I had made remarkable time over the lower road, which was generally thonght impassable. Half an hour later we commenced a semibusiness gossip, and I learned all about Kyeburn. Mr Andrews said' that, this winter, was the worst he had ever experienced on the station, and he had been there 14- years. The storm of '95 was nearly as bad, he eaid, but it- was a different kind of a storm. Then the snow-showers were,, intermittent, lasting altogether over some weeks, and the sheep in most instances were able to keep on top. The storm of July 7 lasted only a few hours, but in that time several feet of snow fell^ blotting out the landscape and burying of sheepThey could not struggle' above it or- through it, so were forced to remain quietly hidden, while a thick crust formed along the surface perhaps a couple of feet above them. As ' soon as the storm commenced the sheep, as a rule ran together in mobs seeking by instinct shelter and warmth in each other's proximity. Thus were they buried and wedged into a small compass, formed, in shepherds' parlance, "camps.* 1 Many x ! hundreds are often found in a camp, and found as a. rule, it may be said, by accident, for they ai'e completely covered in, and unless the occasional small holes made by the heat of their breath in the crust of the snow are discovered, the shepherd might, arid does, walk right over them, and be unaware of their c listence. " I will give you an instance of this," said. Mr Andrews. ''In a 60-acre paddock we found a number of sheep buried, which" we got out. We made a search, and discovered a few more, and removing these, decided that none were left. Yet, since then, the shepherds have been finding 10 or 15^per day buried in that paddock. We must "" have been walking over many of these, and yet never knew tihey were there': the only indication of their presence is a small hole here jend there made by their breath." " Are dogs of no use to you?" I asked. " Not for seeking out sheep," he said. " They have never been trained to it. Occasionally you will find an exceptionally clever dog, which adapts itself to circumstances, and sets itself to the serious business of searching 1 out camps; but such instances are rare. ' Mr Andrews "went on to say that his station comprised nearly 100,000 acres, which stretched from the lake near Kokenga away across the .ranges, and joined with the Otekaike Estate near Kurow. The ■whole of thi6 immense area was under snow for four weeks ; the only pa-rt that might be cailed clear was 10 acres in the vicinity of the lake. Scattered over this estate v*ere, when the storm came on, 18,000 sheep." " And how many of those have you accounted for?" I inquired. "We have taken out between four and five thousand, and I bel.ieve that another few thousand have found their way out on to the tope themselves, and will be able to sustain life until a general thaw sets in. That leaves anything up to 10,000 un-, accounted for — perhaps dead." " Great Seofct !" I said inanely ; " ten thousand- dead J" " Perhaps," said Mr Andrews. " You see, it is seven weeks since the snow fell and 'buried them. A sheep can live some weeks under snow ; but at the end of seven weeks the odds are against it being alive." The snow is very gradually thawing, but even were it low enough now for a sheep to struggle out, it is doubtful ii, after seven, weeks' imprisonment, it would be strong enough to do so. The bulk of the missing 10,000, it ie safe to surmise, are huddled together in camps, and the mortality in the camps is very high. The weaker sheep go down, and are trampled to death, while the stronger kill themselves by eating each other' 6 wool. So long as-*the buried sheep keep comparatively dry, they have a fighting chance for life, but should they get wet, and a frost eventuate, nothing can save them. Mr Andrews said that when out snow-raking his men constantly came on dead sheep, whose decease was due to the fact that they got wet, and were frozen. It may not be out of place here lo explain the term "snow-raking." Like many other unfortunate people, the word misled me. Coming up in the train, I got into conversation with a grizzled shepherd, and, seeking information, iisked him about it. "Do the shepherds," said I innocently, "go out with rakes and scratch about in, the snow after cheep?" The old man regarded me with blank amazement. "Do we gang oot and scratch aboot wi' rakes?" he repeated, in a. rising crescendo. "Hoogh!" and that" was all I could get out of Jiim. I heard him afterwards informing a companion that " Yon mon was daft." I have learned since that snowraking is simply snow-searching : the shepherds go out into the haunts of the sheep, and seek for traces of their camps. When the camp is found, a number of men and horeea, tandem fashion, tramp through the snow, forming a ti ck, leading to more open or more suitable ground. The sheep are then dug or scared out, and hustled into the track, and thus into safer country. The Kyeburn Station people had somewhat exciting experiences during the snowstorm. It was as deep there as anywhere, averaging considerably over 4ft, and in many cases completely concealing the fences. The root groaned under the weight

rof the heavy fall, and during; th« short] time I was at the homestead, Mies Andrews pointed out to me disastrous evidences of leaks. Until the snow hardened, and be- . came, by its own weight, firmer and more • compressed, it was practically ft physical impossibility to move about out of doors. I', w^ls the work of half an hour to travel from the. iiomestead to the sfca.t>lee, a. dis- | tance of a few chains. A small building 1 close to the homestead was completely buried, assuming the appearance of a huge snowdrift. It was some days before it became possible to move away from the station at all, and attend to the horses, cattle, and sheep in the paddocks closeabout. It was a week before any word came in from the outside world, and then the long-delayed mails were brought in. It was only then, from the newspapers, tiiat the manager learned of the hardshipsborne by James 41'Cormack, the Kyeburn rabbiter, who was conveyed' into Naseby Hospital with frost-bitten feet, after being isolated on the ranges -without food or shelter for some days. To-day, the snow is about ■> 2ft deep all about Kyeburn, and! unless one possesses a strong hoiee^ and a spirit of grim determination, it is by no means easy to move 'about. The manager and station hands do so daily because, they must. Miss Andrews told me, spexy dolefully, that for seven weeks she had been no farther away" from home than the verandah, and that ~1 /was doubly welcome, insenruch that I was" only "the third* visitor to the station during/ that time. Under the circumstances, she said, she would be glad 1 to see a Hottentot. The remark has since caused me much serious meditation. Fortunately for them, there were no shepherds or rabbitera on the distant parts of the run when the snow came, otherwise their plight must have been an unhappy one. It is comparatively easy to travel through deep snow where are the tracks of horses and men who have passed earlier, but there are few thin^ more fatiguing than figfihting a way through snow that lies just as it fell. "And now," said I, with poised pencil, " what was the most exciting or remarkable incident of the storm?" Mr Andrews gazed thoughtfully at Mr MaoKenzie, hi 6 lieutenant, and 1 Mr jMacKenzio nodded comprehendingiy. "We ran out of tobacco," he said, and Mr Andrews agreed that there was nothing- more direful than tha£ "It was dreadful," said Mies Andrews reminiseently ; " But — Oh, dad, tell him about \cm sleeping out in the strawstack all night." The manager protested vigorously ; -it was nothing, he said. -But ne told the story. He and Mr Mackenzie ■ and a few men had been out all day on tihe ranges, snibwraking, and a slight thaw was taking place., When they returned they found a roaring torrent at the foot of the^ mountains where before there had only been an insignificant creek. They, could not put their horses into it, for swirling lumps of ice made it dangerous, and failure attended their attempt to scramble across on a fence. Perforce, with the- station in sight," they had to stay on tie farther bank of the stream. They found a small strawstack and a disused. hut ; ,and between the two they snent the night as comfortably as possible. There was a hard frost during the night, and next morning they were able- to cross the stream on the ice. On another occasion a sharp snowstorm ■caught them v&en returrHpg on foot to the station from .Naseby, and so blinding vtes the fall that the two had to return to Naseby, and await clearer weather. A book might be filled -with, the experiences and adventures of the Kyeburn station people during and since the storm. A long talk with Mr Andrews gave me much interesting information relating to things past, present, and future. He told me, for instance, that seagulls swarmed over the run. and were an unmitigated nuisance. They attacked the weaker sheep when, they were down, and frequently picked out their eyes and Ate a- portion, pf their tongues while they were yet alive. He said that in numberless, cases, whilst moving about the sm>w-boun<J run, he -had discovered dead and living sheep so mutilated. He slaughtered the gulls, he said, whenever he bad an opportunity. It was only after some days, when the snow lay more compressed, that the manager was able to send out drays to the paddocks close about, laden with hay, etc., for the animals imprisoned -there. The axles were in many oases below the surface of tho snow, which clogged between the spokes of the wheels, and this necessitated the assistane of a man at each wheel keeping them clear. The deep ruts made by the wheels attracted swarms of rabbits,which descended into them after straw* that fell from the carts. When anyone approached they orouched on the bottom, evidently believing that they could not be seen. For weeks a man - and a pitchfork, following the track of a cart, averaged a daily kill of some 30 rabbits. The tales of the endurance of animals isolated on the run were well nigh incredible. Nine horses were snowed in in a distant paddock, and for 15 days they remained there- without food or shelter. Eventually, they were rescued and brought in, thin, certainly, but very much alive. A mob of station cattle were likewise succoured, but. a well kifown character, called " the rushing cow," displayed a temper that kept her would-be rescuers at a safe dietance, and &he was reluctantly left behind in the camp. She remained there, without food, for no less than six weeks, and then a thaw mercifully released her, and she was able to find her way to black I country." There aro not a large number of cattle on Kyoburn, but a fair percentage , of the animals have been lost in the snow. " Until mustering," said the manager, " I cannot really estimate the lose." He went on to say that after the thaw many sheep would die from scouring on the young grass, while the interference with the lambing, the loss that would result ■ from this year's clip in wool, were all factors contributing to a general heavy lose. I left the homestead in the evening and j set off westwards across the snowclad ridges for Naseby. Clouds hung about low and j heavy all day, but just as ihe sun was j sinking it burst through, and shed a won- ; derful purple light. ,over the whitened j country. Nowhere, aiid under no oireum- i •stances, would it have been possible to ; behold a grander or more glorious eight, j The Kakanuis, -with which my route lay ! parallel, had stood out sharply against the darkenn-g sky as if cut from marble. Suddenly the clouds opened, and the mountains were seen bathed- in the warm glow j of the sunset, transformed in a moment from gloomy piles of icy whiteness to a ' glowing picture of pinks And purples and

[ crimsons — a picture that, unhappily, wal gone again in a few minutes. I Naseby has cleared the snow away ' from the streets and roads, but lit etill lies thickly in back yards and front gardens, and all over the surrounding hills. Naseby, even in its present state, is well worth a visit, if only for the unusual experience (in New Zealand) of tra-T^Udng- tlirougi miles ,an-d miles of" enow-burdened country, which one muet a*, present do to get there. And, arrived there, there will be no lack of interest, for every Naseby man can discourse learnedly on big snowfalls and their re« suits.