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Te Ao Hou, November 1957, Page 24

That is the plan of campaign at Tiroa, where is hoped to settle 50 sheepfarmers one day. True only 26,000 acres have been gazetted but it is expected that the remaining portion will soon be subject of an agreement among the owners. When Tawhiao and the Tainui tribes were taking refuge in this wild and forbidding region behind the old Aukati Line after the disastrous Waikato War they probably did not envisage the day when Tiroa would be farmed by Maori settlers. Fruit trees, wheat, and potato plantations flourished nearer to Te Kuiti. But this remote pumice plateau beside the western foothills of the Rangitoto Range was hardly inhabited. Indeed the contractors have found practically no sign of human occupation and it is assumed that only the Patupaeareh and the well-fed Captain Cookers, who relish the succulent fern root on these highlands, held sway here before giant crawler tractors and bulldozers began nosing their way through the virgin vegetation. Development has begun beside the narrow road, which winds and twists from Kopaki to the headwaters of the Waipa River. Not far from Fletcher's Mill, the contractor and his family and the departmental headquarters are found. The former are established in a comfortable little cabin on the edge of the clearing. A large prefabrical corrugated iron shed with a steel frame erected by the department, houses the supplies and equipment for development. Not far away, on a commanding rise, the farm manager's three-bedroom house is being built. The contractor at Tiroa is Mr Jack Ammon. He is a quiet, modest young man who does things in a big way and thinks nothing of it. In his work, he has the advantage of a sympathetic and adaptable wife, who shares his trials and triumphs, travels with him in the landrover over the rough temporary roads, and cooks wild pork and venison in a way which would win the heart of any man Mrs Ammon likes the free and open existence at Tiroa, which is not altogether strange country to her. She lived nearly all her life on a farm at Arapuni on the other side of the range, and is pleased to see her three young children getting the benefit of the same healthy country air. Breaking in land at Tiroa is a dawn to disk job. There are five tractors working on the block. They are used to pull the crushing rollers filled with water each of which weighs nearly five tons The rollers are off-set, so the tractor travel in

A crawler driven bulldozer clearing an access track round a hillside at Tiroa. the cleared ground while the roller is in the scrub. This ensures safer working in country where there are many dangers and the drivers have to keep their eyes open. Hidden swamps, which are not even marked on the survey maps, are the biggest menace. They have trapped more than one tractor but there is always another one handy to pull the victim out. This operation is not easy if a machine nose-dives into a yawning tomo or water hole. It has happened once without serious consequences. On another occasion the tractor crashed through the tangled scrub to come face to face with a gaping cavity measuring eight feet across and 30 or 40 feet deep, and, to teeter dangerously on the brink before it was withdrawn to safety. Hidden outcrops of limestone rock often cause the tractors to spin drunkenly before they regain their equilibrium and plough again into the overburden. The contractors take all these hazards in their stride. Two rollers crush between 35 and 40 acres a day. The giant discs follow in their wake, covering 20 to 25 acres daily and the harrows eat up easily 60 acres a day. Sowing and rolling with three machines cover 60 to 70 acres a day but the work could proceed even faster than this if there were no big fern roots to snag the machines. Supervising the whole project is Mr L. Houchen of the Department of Maori Affairs. Te Kuiti, a man with twenty-five years of experience in the development of Maori land. At Tiroa all the land as far as one can see is owned by Maori people. Some day all of it will be brought in. With up-to-date machinery, energy, and the wonder trace element, cobalt, this land, which was once wasteland, can be made to grow the greenest grass and raise the fattest lambs. Night was falling when the party left the block after a thorough inspection by car, on foot, and in Mr Ammon's land rover. The whirr of heavy machinery, which has been in their ears all day, had now ceased. At dawn the clash of discs, the rattle of harrows, and the laboured moaning of the tractors crawling up the hillsides would be joined by the steady drone of aircraft as they lifted off the strip to bring the benefit of fertiliser to this promising country. * * *