TRAVEL IN SOUTH AMERICA.

New Zealand Illustrated Sporting & Dramatic Review, Issue 1317, 22 July 1915, Page 40

TRAVEL IN SOUTH AMERICA.

“The horses of South America are astonishing—one of the most astonishing things.” The speaker, who had just landed from the’ Niagara and strolled into the “Review” office, made a gesture of disdain.

“They have no spirit. I saw a beautiful pair of carriage horses in one South American town —bays, sixteen-two. Absolutely perfect. Just as I passed along the coachman brought his whip down across the ears of the off-side horse. I made for the pavement, expecting to see the horse leap forward. He just shook his head. “They have no spirit. They have all the'r courage broken: or it may be their breeding—l don’t know which. It always puzzled me. “When I was in Columbia we rode white pacing horses which they have imported from Spain. They are remains of the Moorish occupat on of Granada, and have an admixture of Arab blood. They are easy to rid? and can pace alongside an ordinary horse going on the gallop, but you get tired of always going at the one gait. “But in Bolivia and Chili the horses are without heart. They are beautiful looking, but too much broken — absolutely without heart.

“When up at the mine in Bolivia I rode a mule. She was a beautiful little thing—like a pony. I always ride astride on an Indian cavalry saddle. Well, I petted that mule, fed her on cake, and at the end of a month she chased me out of the yard. It took four men to get the bridle on her. She was so bad that we wore a bridle on her which buckled at the back of the ears. That’s what a mule is like. “To get her shod was a perfect circus. First the Indian grooms threw her. Then they tied two feet together while they shod the other two, and vice versa. But she was worth it. She could go. She could do nine leagues (27 miles), with a rise in it of 15,000 ft., in four hours, in that rarified air where every horse becomes affected in the wind and often dies under you from heart failure.

“On one occasion that mule beat the train over the distance'. She was a had lot! She was fast and easy, but fiendish to shoe.

“In Chili they ride on heavy wooden saddles, almost like a New Zealand cavalry saddle, placed over blankets

folded double, and as the mule has absolutely no spring in the fetlock you can imagine it is a necessity which makes them put a sheepskin across the saddle before mounting. “Their bits are heavy and cruel both in Bolivia and Chili. They have a big bar bent into the form of a U in the mouth that, when elevated, forces the horse’s mouth open. And sometimes a large iron ring is round the lower jaw, which will break the jaw upon a very slight leverage being applied. “I did not like them. I always rode with English stuff —just a light snaffle and plain reins. “The heavy bits are needed on the mules, as they have very hard mouths. I have found a mountain pony quite as surefooted as a mule. The mules of the high Andes, where I have been living, can carry immense loads, but most of the packs are borne on the backs of llamas, a cross between an ostrich and a camel. “Well, that ; s what they looked like. “They used to come up to the mine in droves of hundreds, carrying lime and other materials for the works. I have seen as many as four hundred stringing

up at once. “The country in Bolivia is very monotonous. As the train climbs up

from the coast line it goes across an immense sandy desert which is really a big plateau of a rapidly-rising elevation. Here are the Borax Lakes and Saltpetre Lakes. They are huge beds of bygone lakes now covered white, as by a snowstorm, with borax, in an almost pure state, and salt and saltpetre glittering in the sun. The whole country is very monotonous — no vegstation, but spare' tussocks; no trees, too- high; no flowers, too cold; and the tongue Spanish. I have spoken nothing else for two years. “Yes, I am glad to be in New Zealand once again, although South America has its own charms.”

Mr. H. Levi, of Canada, is at present in Rotorua, and will travel New Zealand throughout on a business trip.

Mr. William McLeod, of Whangarei, left by the Niagara last week for London, via Canada. Dr. H. D. Eccles, of Whangarei, and Mr. B. R. Ba’.n of the same district, left by the N.Z.S. Co.’s Remuera en route to London to offer for the front.

Mr. Herbert Fleming, a son of the actor of that name, who was wellknown in New Zealand a few years ago for his excellent work on the stage, has died from wounds received in the Dardanelles.

At the annual meeting of subscribers of the Carlisle Otter Hunt, England, it was the unanimous opinion that hunting should continue.

A severe frost vas accountable for a few days’ splendid skating on the lakelet in the Tourist Department’s Domain at Queenstown recently. As the nights were ones of brilliant moonlight, the popular winter pastime was indulged in by many of its numerous devotees right up till midnight.

The Canterbury Acclimatisation Society have decided to notify sister societies that they have undertaken the work of tagging fish. It was also decided to request anglers to forward particulars of fish caught.

A brother of the Pope, Giovanni Antonio della Chiesa, is a Rear-Admiral in the Italian fleet, and will no doubt be engaged in the naval operations against Austria.

It is not generally known that Miss J. McKegg, the Horowhenua Queen candidate at the recent carnival at Wellington, is the only woman in New Zealand to hold an engineer’s certificate.

Another Bulgarian general has joined the Russian forces in the person of General Saravoff, who greatly distinguished himself in the Balkan campaign against the Turks.

Miles of submarine traps have been set around the British Isles. They are not unlike gill nets used by fishermen, but are made of iron and suspended from immense buoys.

Mr. R. Rutherford and several of his fellow-members of the Otago Acclimatisation Society motored to Hakateramea recently, and shot 120 prime fat hares, which they sent in for the benefit of the Wounded Soldiers’ Fund. Mr. Ensor, manager of the station, facilitated the sportsmen’s operations by sending horses on which to pack the game.

In France all the priests have to serve in the 'fighting line, and occasionally one is killed. In one instance Dr. A. A. Martin, who has just returned from the scene of the war, condoled with an abbe on the death of one of his fellow-priests in battle. The abbe replied: “That is how every French priest would like to die.”

The Prince of Wales is reported to be very popular with the men at the front. He served for two days in the trenches, a risky thing for the Heir Apparent to do. He has found his way to the heart of the Tommies by asking them to do little favours for him, which the soldiers greatly appreciate.

The Alpine Club of New Zealand has been revived. A meeting of mountaineers was held last week in Wellington, when general business was conducted and the ionstitution of the club approved. Mr. A. P. Harper was elected president, and Mr. H. E. Radcliffe (Wellington) secretary. Membership involves a climbing qualification, but those who have no such feat to their credit are accepted as associates at half subscription.

Temporary-Captain G. A. M. Buckley, late of Lagmhor, Ashburton, who was well-known for his excellent military work with “Buckleys Horse” at the time the present King visited New Zealand, has transferred from his old regiment, the 12th Hampshires, to command a battalion and to bei Tem-porary-Lieutenant-Colonel of the 7th Leinsters. Lieutenant-Colonel and Mrs. Buckley have lived for some years in England at The Hall, Worth, Sussex.

Regulations for trout fishing in certain lakes in the Canterbury Acclimatisation District are contained in the latest issue of the “Gazette.” They provide that the season for fishing for trout in Lakes Rubicon, Grassmere, Lyndon, Mary Mere, Sarah, and Pearson, shall commence on November Ist in each year and shall end on April 30th in the following year. It shall be illegal to take trout by angling from boats of any description on these lakes, provided that from November Ist, 1915, to April 30th, 1916, it shall be lawful for duly licensed anglers to take trout by angling from boats on Lakes Pearson and Lyndon only,

A drive of the swans on Lake Ellesmere, Canterbury, was made recently, when two hundred and fifty birds were killed. The majority have been frozen for the Belgians.

Tiflis, which the Czar- visited recently, and termed “a pearl of the Russian crown,” was described by James Bryce some 40 years ago as “a human melting-pot, a city of contrasts and mixtures, into which elements have been poured from half Europe and Asia, and in which they as yet shows no signs of combining.” The description holds good to-day, for there are said to be 70 languages spoken in the streets of the ancient city by representatives of many nationalities.

Mr. M. Myers, who has been on a trip to the Exposition at San Francisco, states that there appeared to be very few visitors there from countries outside of North and South America. He spoke enthusiastically of the excellence of the general arrangement of buildings and courts, and the splendour of the illuminations. Canada’s display was one of the very best of the whole Exposition, and was an exceptionally fine

advertisement. Mr. Myers found that the New Zealand main exhibit in the Palace of Agriculture is not large, but compact and attractive. The Australian exhibit is centralised in one large building, and is a capital display. From San Francisco Mr. and Mrs. Myers went to Los Angeles and saw much to admire in the beauties of that city. The surrounding district is practically one huge orange grove, and the atmosphere was heavily laden with the scent of orange blossoms. They next visited Chicago, Detroit, Washington, New York, Montreal, Ottawa, Toronto, Winnipeg, Lakes Banff and Louise, Niagara Falls, and back through Canada to Vancouver, where Mr. and Mrs. Myers embarked on the Niagara for Auckland. With regard to the attitude of the Americans towards the belligerents, Mr. Myers says he found that the bulk of the people seemed sympathetic with the Allies. The general feeling, however, was against the United States becoming embroiled. The industrial effect of the European upheaval was noticeable among the factories, which, on the whole, were in a bad state when the war broke out, but were now working at top speed.

Mr. J. B. Clarkson, managing director of Messrs. J. B. Clarkson and Co., Ltd., left Auckland by the Niagara for America, England and Europe. He was accompanied for the first time by Mrs. Clarkson, who intends, when she reaches England, to offer her services as a Red Cross nurse, either at Home or on the Continent. On arrival at Vancouver Mr. Clarkson will travel, via Seattle, to San Francisco, where he will spend about a week on business and in sight-seeing at the Panama Pacific Exposition. From San Francisco he will visit Los Angeles, and from there travel through Salt Lake City and Denver to Chicago. After transacting necessary business he will proceed to Detroit and stay there for a few days. Toronto and Montreal, in Canada, will next be visited. Mr. Clarkson will then return to the United States, and after spending a week in New York will embark on one of the Atlantic liners for England. While in the Old Country he will, as a result of various requests, visit a number of hospitals where the New Zealand wounded are being cared for, and ascertain the accommodation and attention provided for wounded soldiers. This information he will cable, in an unofficial capacity, to New Zealand. He proposes to spend two or three months in England on business, and also to cross to France and get as near the firing line as possible with a view to securing first-hand knowledge of the conditions on the western frontier. Mrs. Clarkson intends to stay at Home for two or three years, but Mr. Clarkson hopes to return to New Zealand early in 1916.

A recent traveller describing the Otira Gorge says: “This wonderful piece of road is mostly zigzag. The gorge is before us, glaciers gleam here and there about us, and the mountains seem to gather together and close in upon us. Half a mountain appears to have fallen from its place right in oui’ pathway. Look at the tremendous bulk of those three rocks that in their headlong career have crushed the lesser rocks into fragments. It is an impressive sight. ‘Here are big things,’ says our escort, as he picks his way to the side of the precipice and looks down and then up—up to the towering summit and down to the river’s great bed fully three hundred feet below, with jagged rocks and boulders that repel by their cold and harsh outlines. The voice of the waters has grown from a murmurous hum to a sullen roar, and as a south-wester is hastening after us, already enveloping with clouds the tops of the mountains,. we feel it a relief to descend almost as sharply as ordinary human legs can go into the heart of Otira’s great gorge. The road is here indescribably, unimaginably fine. We look and look. Is it possible that our way goes there and there, and again there? Is that piece of track away yonder part of the road we now traverse? Yes! A dim outline of broken bush denotes where the road turns almost on itself, almost parallel in many places—on, on, down, down, round, round. O, road of many moods, track of numberless twistings, way of wondrous workmanship and countless dangers; O, hills that frown and gather round us till the sky, now darkling and deepening in the gloom of dusk, is almost shut out from our vision; O, river of fitful fancy that flows and flows over an uneven and rocky bed, over unnumbered holes and round colossal boulders, there is but one word that even begins to tell of your majesty and might—you are stupendous!”

An Irish lady who recently returned from Belgium writes: —“The Germans are trying to get all the young men of military age to sign a document in which they promise not to take up arms in defence of their country ■when the Allies come back through Belgium. At first the men protested vigorously. In some of the villages they even overcame the officials, but now, remembering Germany’s own outraged treaty, they do so quite voluntarily. ‘A mere scrap of paper,’ they say, taking up their pens. ‘Oh, certainly; where do I sign?’ Which makes the officials awfully wild, because, of course, they can’t retort about the sanctity of written promises. Awfully ’cute of them, I think.

Mr. Samuel Parsons, a Gisborne sportsman, while in quest of wild duck at the Awapuni Lagoon, had an unenviable experience early one morning last week. Seeing that there was no water in the lagoon, he set out to cross it at the widest spot, going after a bird he had shot. He was wearing gum-boots, and when about half-way over he found Ir'mself beginning to sink. He was helpless, and was soon in serious difficulties. His efforts to exticate himself were unavailing, and he felt himself sinking

slowly all the time. It was three hours before his plight was noticed, and then only by a fcrtunate coincidence. There is not usually much traffic past that spot, but Mr. E. Stevens, a telegraph linesman, was out that way attending to a private line. He heard cries, which he followed up, and when he reached the edge of the lagoon, about 200 yards from where Mr. Parsons was situated, he heard him call out, “I’m sinking.” Mr. Stevens was fortunate enough to discover two boxes near by, and, placing his feet in these, Tke skis, he went out to attempt to rescue Mr. Parsons from his perilous position. On reaching the man in difficulties, Mr. Stevens gave h : m one of the boxes to put his arms across while he himself stood off and tried to pull him out. The latter, however, was very firmly embedded in the mud, and by this time he had sunk up to his arms. Mr. Stevens found that he himself was beginning to sink, but he stuck gamely to his arduous task, and after struggling for three-quarters of an hour he succeeded in getting Mr. Parsons out, the latter being very much exhausted. The tide was rising, and two hours later there was a depth of several feet of water over the spot.