A REMINISCENCE OF THE PAST.

Timaru Herald, Volume XXX, Issue 1465, 2 June 1879, Page 2

A REMINISCENCE OF THE PAST.

[COHMUNKUTBD.] One of the greatest institutions of former times m South Canterbury, and indeed m most parts of the colony, were " bullooktracks," that is, tracks followed by the bollock dray i m travelling backwards and forwards between ihe stations and the towns. The principal features of these tracks wore the ruta, boulders, hillooks and mud, which combined together to make travelling along them, especially m a matter-of-fact, sprin'gless bullock-dray, a very lively affair. How the necks of the unfortunate " polers" erer stood the jerkings and wrenohings and joltings und twistinga, was always a mystery lo me ; as wbs also the cool and unconcerned manner m which the drivers eat on the pole behind the bulloolts and "punched" them. However, every dog has his day ; and thanks to the Hood Boards and an abundance of money, goad hard roads are now the rule m the back country, and " bullook-lriirks " of the good old etamp are very hard to find there. In Iho town of Timaru, however, the case is different, for they are rapidly coming into favor again — -a faot which cannot fail to prove interesting to new arrivals, as they will be able to brag about "roughing it" m the colony, just as well as the oldest inhabitant. For. fear, however, that this, latest whim of the authorities should not last long, and that they should again show a preference for good macadamised roads, I should strongly advise all who are anxious to attain a true knowledge of a '' bullock-track," to at onoo hire a bullock-dray and take a quiet ride m it along Coin's Terrace. Between the GrogTenor Motel and the junctiou of the Terrace with Strutballnn street, they will .encounter a piece of road which X can honestly aadtxre them could very rarely have been beaten even m the MoKeuzie Country m the early days. It is so bad that a Borough Councillor, and an old band to boot, actually swore like a trooper while driving over it on Saturday afternoon. This is o solemn fact, and there is no necessity for me to say that when a Councillor loses his temper over a town road which he has had a hand m making, it must be a very bad caie indeed. That m question reminded me so forcibly of my past experiences, and awakened so many fond reminiscences, that for fully half an hour after reaching it I could. Jiot tear myself away, or remove my. eyes from it. It was with feelings or pure delight that I watched cart after cart, and buigy after buggy, get stuck m the rut>, while their axles tank deep down m the mud. Oply one thing was wanting to flil to the brim my cup of happiness, and .that was soul-stirring "bullock language ". from the mouth of n real " puncher." • The Councillor Bpoke pretty strongly, it is true, but his language lacked the necessary foroe and expression. He teemed indeed rather ashamed, of it than otherwi-e — a thing I hat a "puncher" never nsed to be, for he sincerely believed it was the only tongue builools could properly understand and appreciate. That there was some good ground for this belief i> shown by the following story : — On one occasion, manyyears ago, a squatter-parson wa« returning home m his bullcck dray, which was being driven by a " puncher" of the flrrt water. The dray got stuck m a deep hole, and for some time the bullocks refused to budge. The " puncher" was just going to begin talking to them m their own language, when his master interrupted him — " Wait a minute," said he, " let me try what I can do first. I don't like swearing." Hn then got off the dray, and after patting the bullocks, began urging them iv mild tones to pull — " Now .Redman, my boy, throw your shoulder into the yoke. Give way Whiteman,old fellow. All together — Now!" But after half an-hour's coaxing and beseeching arid patting and begging, the dray remained stuck more fast, than ever. At last the patience of the master became exhausted, and, turnJDg to the driver, who all the time had sat like a man of si one, exclaimed, " It's no go, William, they ure so unaccustomed to mild words that they don't appreciate them." "No, sir," replied the " pnncher," "I don't think they do. They're awful brutes. Just listen to me now," and with a " Gee-up, Redman, yon- , , , —— , , ." (Here followed an harangue m bullock-language, accompanied by a liberal use of the whip) ; the team not only threw their shoulders but their whole bodies into tho yokes, and out came the dray m a twinkling. Ever after that the squatterparson, whenever the dray got stuck, left William to deal with his team and turned his face the other way. In making this digression, I have done to intentionally,' as I wish to furnish new-chums with a spic dote -vith which to enliven any story of their experiences which they may send Home. At the same time, I feel perfectly convinced that, whatever they may write or say, after driving the full length of Cain's Terrace, they will inwardly thank their lucky stars that they did not have to do the early "roughing iff; in the colony. " . "77 6.x.