Forty Thousand Miles Over Land and Water

CHAPTER IX

THE SOUTH ISLAND OF NEW ZEALAND: ITS ALPS AND MOUNTAIN LAKES

Very cold and miserable we looked and felt as we stood on the platform of the station at Christchurch that morning, when Mr. Scott, who had read for the bar at the same time as my husband, having heard of our probable arrival, greeted and took us off to Coker's Hotel.

He came at twelve o'clock again, and drove us down Manchester Street, which looks exactly like the High Street of some pretty, quiet English town, to the Cathedral of Christchurch. It is the only cathedral in New Zealand, and is built from a design of Sir Gilbert Scott's. The transepts and the chancel are in process of building as the funds come in, and the nave is finely proportioned, but the interior as yet presents a very bare, unfinished appearance. We ascended the tower, which has a fine peal of bells, and going out on each of the four balconies on either side, we had as many bird's-eye views of the town and surrounding country. The main streets are cruciform, converging and meeting in the cathedral square. The conformation of the city is laid out on the following plan. In the centre are the streets and shops and public buildings, then a broad belt of parks and public gardens; and now that Christchurch numbers a population of 50,000, it has overflowed beyond into suburbs, which are becoming as populous as the town itself. There are steam and horse tramways, and an abundance of hansom cabs.

We drove out to Riccarton, a suburb three miles away, to see the Hon. George and Mrs. Rodney, friends in England, and then to Ilam, Mr. Leonard Harper's pretty gabled house, with the large English garden, and tennis-grounds, through which runs the swift stream of the Avon. Mr. Scott then took us on to have tea with Mr. and Mrs. Lance at Oakover. Mr. Lance is one of the proprietors of the Middle Park stud, which has done so much to improve the breed of horses in Canterbury. They have nine horses in training for the November races at Christchurch, and were most anxious for us to go out there one day to see the early morning gallop. It is very remarkable how passionately fond every one in Australasia is of horse-racing, and all the chief towns have their race-course, with spring and autumn meetings.

Wednesday, October 15th.—Arrangements had been made for us from Wellington to make an expedition to Horsley Down, to see a sheep-run belonging to Mr. Lance. We started at 7 a.m. in a blinding snow-storm, doubtful as to the wisdom of the start under such circumstances.

We meandered along in the train over the flat Canterbury plain, which is overrun with beautiful yellow gorse. So profuse has become its growth, that, though it is useful to them for hedges, the farmers look upon it as a nuisance. It has been remarked that they are truly ungrateful about it; for thirty years ago this rich plain was one vast field of tussock grass, with not a bush or shrub growing on it, and the gorse was planted by the first settlers to form some protection for the crops and cattle. The whole of the Canterbury Plain is let in small holdings, varying from 200 to 500 acres, and the farms look most thriving and prosperous. All the cottages, farm-houses, and station premises are roofed with corrugated iron zinc, and our loathing of this wearisome material that is used in such prodigious quantities in the colonies began. With a felt lining it forms a warm, durable, and cheap roofing, easily erected without skilled labour. When whole houses were erected of it I could never lose the idea that they were the mission chapels of dissent at home. The North Island is a barren and sterile desert when compared to the prosperity and population of the South Island, but then the North Island belongs chiefly to the Maoris, and this to the English in the north, and the Scotch in the south. To have seen only the North Island would be to see New Zealand in its primitive state; to have seen the South Island—New Zealand in the full vigour of a rapid development. The fact that the great shipping and commercial interest of the Islands is at Dunedin, and the great educational and agricultural centre at Christchurch, alone evidences the superiority of the south.

We left the plain, and began a gradual ascent, through a pass in the hills, where the scene grew wild and bleak, and by 11 p.m. we were at the small station of Waikari. Mr. Lance met us with a smart dog-cart and tandem, and we had a beautiful though bitterly cold drive, going along a smooth flat road for seven miles, to the station at Horsley Down. We passed a few huts and tumble-down shanties, belonging to "croppers," or men who break up and "crop" the land for a couple of years, at a rent of ten shillings per acre, after which it is sown in grass for the owner, the cropper moving elsewhere.

It was wonderful in this bleak, hilly country, generally called "tussock land," to see what changes of colour and vivid bits of colouring there were; a patch of bright green against the dark earth of a newly-ploughed field, the yellow of the tussock-grass against the bit of chalky grey cliff, and over all the clear wintry sky flecked with clouds. The range of Southern Alps before us were clothed in a pure white covering of newly fallen snow, looking blue in the shadows of the gullies; their highest peaks rise to a height of from 7000 to 10,000 feet, and as we approached nearer to their dazzling whiteness we saw the station lying underneath them, the "run" stretching up to the lower ranges.

Mr. Lance, with his brother, has 120,000 acres, on which he runs 70,000 merino sheep. The sheep are managed by an overseer and six shepherds, all Highlanders, who earn 70l. a year each. Except the stud sheep, the flocks are rarely seen from one shearing-time to another, living out on the hills, on the tussock-grass, which gives them excellent pasture. It was strange to think that thousands were lying out in the snow on those hills, and that yet the loss is only two per cent., or the same as cattle-ranching in America when the cattle remain out all the winter. The house was a small lodge, with an Italian fountain in front, which looked singularly out of place, facing towards the range called the Black Hills. There was a thick plantation of tall Scotch firs and eucalypti, growing round the house as a shelter from the fierce winds that blow across these exposed plains. The shearing had been delayed owing to the bad weather, but was to commence the following Friday in the large shed holding thirty-two shearers. These shearers travel about the country, going from one station to another during the shearing season. They are given their "tucker" and bunks in a shed fitted up for that purpose, and are paid at the rate of 1l. per every 100 sheep shorn; and a very good man can shear 100 a day.

We saw the skirting-board on which the fleece is laid out, the locks clipped and rolled up. There it is passed to the judge, who, by the quality of the texture, classifies it into one of the four divisions. So great is the dexterity of this classifier, that a glance will tell him the quality of the staple. A curious story is told in evidence of this. At a large agricultural show held at Christchurch not long ago, the best judge was shown a staple of wool coming from Australia. He immediately identified it as the wool of a brother of "Jason," the celebrated stud ram, which we saw, belonging to Mr. Lance, who gave between 300 and 400 guineas for him.

We saw the pressing machine for packing the bales for export, and "the race," along which the sheep pass in single file, on to the slanting board at the end, from which they involuntarily slide down into the trough filled with Cooper's Sulphuric Mixture. After being dipped in this, and made to swim the length of the trough, they land on another slanting board, that the dip may run off, and none of Cooper's precious mixture be lost. Then they are taken into a shed and branded, those that have been badly cut by the shearer (which but rarely happens) having tar rubbed into the cuts.

Each sheep shorn is accounted worth five shillings. Mr. Lance also kills for export, and recently sent 13,000 frozen carcases to England, which sold for 4½d. per pound. Immediately afterwards the price went up to 6½d. Freight has to be paid before departure, and all risks are with the owner. Merino sheep give the finest wool, but it is less long in the staple than Lincoln's. Their meat, on account of the dark colour, is not much liked in England; but we had an excellent saddle of it for luncheon. Everything about the station was very rough and untidy—they say it is the only way to make it pay; and there were quantities of horses and dogs—but none of good breed or quality. We passed some "swaggers" on the way back to Waikara. These men walk the country with their packs or "swags" on their backs, rolled up in a blanket, and get board and lodging at the stations they pass through. They are never refused a night's shelter and food (for the good reason that a revenge, such as firing the stacks, is dreaded), and there is always accommodation for them in the bunks for the shearers. With shearers, "swaggers," and odd men about the place, there are sometimes 100 extra to feed on the "run," but they are given no beer, and tea is the favourite drink.

We returned to Christchurch, and were home late that evening.

Thursday, October 16th.—I went to the museum in the morning; it is considered the best arranged in the colonies, and owes it to Dr. von Haast. He has obtained specimens from all parts of the world by the exchange of Moa bones, which are found exclusively about Christchurch.

This native bird has been extinct for over 1000 years, but they have several perfect skeletons in the museum, the largest standing twenty-seven feet high.

Then I wandered through the gardens, where there are pretty walks following the windings of the Avon. Whispering avenues of willow-trees overhang the river, and they are nearly always green, only out of leaf for six weeks of the year.

The mayor and Mr. Charles Bowen, who has been prominent in the promotion of education, took C. over the University of New Zealand, Christ College, the High School for boys and girls, and the Normal Schools.

The university has affiliated colleges in Dunedin and Auckland. The degrees it grants are of the first order, and the examinations are conducted by English professors, through the post. Christ's College is a first-rate public school. It has 200 pupils, and boarders and day-boys. The terms are moderate, its premises very fine, and its system unequalled. At the High School for girls a first-rate education is given for sixteen guineas a year. C. found the president, a young lady of no small personal attraction, arrayed in a Master of Arts gown, teaching a class of girls the sixth book of Euclid; and another lady-professor was eloquently lecturing on the Latin derivation of French verbs. At the Normal Schools, an absolutely free and admirable education is given by the state to 1200 boys and girls, including many whose parents are in prosperous if not affluent circumstances.

There is very pleasant genial society at Christchurch, and it is by far the most English of all the towns in Australasia. We agreed afterwards in thinking that we should have chosen to live there, were we coming to settle in the colonies.

Friday, October 17th.—We left Christchurch by the express at 8 a.m. for Dunedin. It is called express only by comparison with the usual speed of fifteen miles, and I suppose travels about twenty miles an hour, taking just twelve hours to reach Dunedin.

We passed over the Canterbury Plains with their golden lines of yellow gorse hedges, bounded on one side by the Southern Alps,—that mighty backbone of the South Island, covered with freshly fallen snow—and by the ocean on the other.

The line gradually converged towards the sea, until we ran along the shore, as we reached Timaru.

After leaving Timaru, we ought to have seen the weather-worn peak of Mount Cook, the highest (10,000 feet) point of the Southern Alps, and familiar to many now, from the reading of Mr. Green's interesting account in the High Alps of New Zealand, of his ascent of Mount Cook.

After crossing the stony bed of the Waitaki, which forms the boundary-line between the provinces of Canterbury and Otago, the country may be said to be peopled and owned by the Scotch, who form in the province of Otago one large settlement.

We arrived at Oamaru in the course of the afternoon. The town is very remarkable for these parts, being built of cream-coloured stone, quarried in the neighbourhood and easy to work. It produced such a handsome, solid effect to us, accustomed by this time to the usual frail tenements of wood. A saloon carriage had been sent up from Dunedin for us, and was attached to the train, and I ought to have mentioned that the minister of public works had given us a free pass over all the New Zealand Railways. The railways throughout the country are under the control of government, and do not belong to companies. We noticed how the English names predominated in the stations along the Canterbury portion of the line, showing in many cases the homes of the first settlers in the old country, such as, Norwood, Chertsey, Ealing, Winchester, Richmond, Goodwood, and many others. It was unlike the North Island, where the names are chiefly Maori.

A very wild, beautiful bit of country, noticing the wonderful harbours nature has provided along the deeply indented coast and the train went over the Blueskin Cliffs.

Port Chalmers, with its large dockyard and wharves, looked a pretty seafaring little town, half-built on the peninsula formed by the sea on one side, and the arm of it that runs inland, on the other, making a broad river that passes by Dunedin. A concrete wall has been made, to force the current into a channel which is being gradually deepened, so that vessels of large draught will be able to anchor at the city wharfs. The citizens fully realize the immense importance of this work, and are showing great energy and enterprise, and expending large sums of money on the scheme. Skirting along by the sea, lighted buoys marking the course of the channel, we saw a dark hill before us, illuminated with innumerable bright spots of light, clustering thickly at the bottom, and at 8 p.m. we ran into the station of Dunedin.

The Grand Hotel here is the largest and most handsomely furnished hotel, not only in New Zealand but in the whole of Australasia. The proprietor has to pay 2000l. a year for his ground-rent alone, and thirty years ago that same plot of land is said to have been given in exchange for a cow.

Saturday, October 18th.—The mayor called and took C. over the gaol, the Town Hall, and the new High School. At noon we drove out with Mr. Weldon, the head of the police, and Mr. Cargill, the son of Captain Cargill, the first leader of the colony of Otago, to Burnside, the manufacturing suburb of Dunedin, to see the works of the New Zealand Meat Freezing Company.

The sheep are slaughtered in a line, by eight butchers, who can each kill his fifty a day. The carcases hang for twenty-four hours, and are then placed in the freezing chambers, in a temperature ten or twelve degrees below freezing-point. By means of machinery the air is compressed and reduced to freezing-point, and pumped into the freezing rooms, which are of different degrees of temperature. Putting on extra wraps, we went into these rooms. The thick, misty air was intensely cold, icicles hung from the roof, and the carcases were frosted with ice. We passed between rows and rows of the ghastly carcases, their truncated bodies drooping pathetically towards the ground. Lighted only by a lantern, there was something awful in looking round in the misty dusk and seeing nothing but the pink carcases of hundreds of dead sheep. We tapped them with a hammer, and they resounded like wood. After two days in the freezing-rooms, each carcase is tied into a sack, and is then ready for export. A branch line to the railway runs into the shed, and they are killed, frozen, and shipped at the rate of 1s. 2d. per pound.

On board ship the store chambers are maintained at 20° Fahrenheit, and the meat will keep for any length of time, until thawed.

The meat-freezing trade ought to form one of New Zealand's great exports, with her rich pasture and sheep runs, and small home consumption; but several large meat-freezing companies have lately temporarily suspended operations, owing to the fall in price of the English market. The exporters say it cannot pay them unless the price is maintained between 6d. and 7d. per pound.

We had luncheon with Mr. and Mrs. Cargill at "The Cliffs." It is a concrete house, built on the top of a hill at the cliffs, and commanding a fine view of the coast for many miles. On the ocean beach below, the surf of the South Pacific is for ever rolling in, in long breakers that leave their track of foam on the sandy shore of the cove.

Dunedin was founded in 1848, by a colony of Scotch settlers, under the leadership of Captain Cargill, who, at the instance of the late Thomas Chambers, called the town Dunedin, the ancient name for Edinburgh. It is the largest of the New Zealand towns, is the great centre of commercial activity, and has the finest stone buildings. Princes' Street is broad and handsome, and contains the magnificent structure of the Bank of New Zealand. Besides, there is the Museum, the Post Office, the Hospital, the High School, the University and Government Buildings, all built of the same cream-coloured Bath stone.

There are nine separate municipalities within Dunedin and its suburbs. The entire population is Scotch; and when you think that it is only thirty years ago since the first settlers arrived in Otago, and founded Dunedin, the enterprising citizens may well be proud of

"Our own romantic town."

It is stated that Captain Cargill used to send back and pay the return passage of any emigrants other than Scotch who were landed; and another amusing story is told on this subject apropos of a Chinaman:—

The municipality sent out tenders for some building, and a John MacIver sent in one amongst others. His was accepted, and subsequently he turned out to be a "John Chinaman." When asked why he had assumed that name, he answered, "That no other than a Scotchman or with a Mac before his name had a chance of succeeding here." This story reminds me that nearly all the market-gardening in New Zealand is done by Chinamen. They lay out their gardens on the principle of having no square plots or straight lines, but all in angles and corners; and on a barren acre of land they succeed, where no one else would, in producing an abundant supply of vegetables.

Sunday, October 19th. Dunedin.—A cold, windy Sunday, with frequent storms of hail and sleet. We went to church at St. Paul's, meeting the Salvation Army, which has taken as great a hold on the people out here as it has at home. All the principal churches are of course Presbyterian; the one with the beautiful tapering spire is called the New Church, and another the old Knox Church.

We took the cable car to the top of the hill, to have luncheon with Mr. Twopenny, editor of the Otago Daily Times, and one of the principal organizers of the Melbourne Exhibition; meeting there Mr. Justice Williams, Judge of the Supreme Court.

In the afternoon we drove with the mayor through the Botanical Gardens. They are very prettily laid out, with some bits of native bush left to grow in their own wild luxuriance among the cultivated bushes and shrubs, intertwined with wild clematis, which here has a flower as large and waxy as stephanotis. We also drove along the Port Chalmers Road, cut out on the side of a hill overlooking the valley.

Returning to tea at the mayor's house, we met there the master of the High School, Mr. Wilson, a very clever man. In talking of immigration they said that no member dares to support or advocate it on any platform. The feeling and outcry against it is so strong throughout the country among the working class, who fear the importation of hands will lower the high rate of wages at present existing. A farm labourer earns easily from seven to eight shillings a day, and carpenters, bricklayers, and masons command ten shillings a day; and this is with a comparatively cheap rate of living.

Monday, October 20th.—We left Dunedin by the eight o'clock train for Invercargill, having the same saloon attached, and Mr. Weldon kindly went part of the way with us, returning on a luggage train.

The same bleak, windy weather as yesterday, made the tussock country look, if possible, drearier than ever.

We reached Invercargill at 5 p.m., and went for a walk about the town. The dusty streets stretching out in their dreary length to the flat country beyond, looked peculiarly bare and uninviting. And this impression was increased by the blinds of all the houses being halfway down, for the funeral of the late surveyor-general. The trees do not seem to have had time to grow up, and there is a crude, half-finished look about Invercargill. I must say in a less degree we noticed the same at Dunedin. Both these towns have the sparse, frugal look of the people who inhabit them. The Albion Hotel, where we stayed, was in the High Street, and very commercial. C. went in the evening with some members of the municipality to a volunteer drill. He looked in afterwards at the Athenæum Club opposite, which is well-arranged and organized, and is open for the use of ladies also.

Tuesday, October 21st.—We left Invercargill by the 6.45 train in the morning, to make an expedition to Lake Wakitipu (pronounced Wakitip). The train was very slow, though there are many stations along the line, where they only stop if there are passengers, a whole list in Bradshaw being "starred" for this purpose. Passing through one of the many sheep runs, a flock had got loose on the line, and we ran over an old ewe in spite of all precautions.

There was a notice put up at one of the stations, about the rabbit pest, which is nearly as bad here as in Australia, giving warning that after the 1st of November, poisoning by laying down phosphorescent corn was to begin. This method of poisoning was invented by a man who was being ruined by the devastation of rabbits on his property. The discovery came too late to save him, and he went bankrupt; but now he devotes all his time to trying to save others by disseminating the knowledge of his discovery.

Ranges of hills covered with snow, now succeeded to the flat plains. We were quite near the snow line, and I noticed how the hills, without sloping, descended sheer down on to the plain. We arrived at Kingston at the head of Lake Wakitipu, and found the steamer, the Mountaineer, moored at the wharf. There ensued a very long waiting, whilst the cargo was leisurely put on board.

It was two hours after the train had come in, before the last whistle sounded, to be quadrupled by the echo from the surrounding mountains; and we were off.

We had the most heavenly afternoon for our trip up the lake, with no wind, and the perfect stillness allowing the outline of the mountains to be faithfully mirrored and reflected back on the calm surface of the lake.

To the right there is a wild range of rocky terraces known as the "Devil's Staircase," and here the water was of an ordinary blue, but on the other, and under the lee of the dark mountains, it was of transparent marine green, very beautiful to behold.

Lake Wakitipu is sixty miles long, varying from three to four miles in width. The surface of the lake is 1000 feet above the level of the sea, but its bed is 300 feet below. The water is intensely cold, and any one drowned in this lake never comes to the surface again. The body is believed to become frozen before it reaches the bottom, so great is the depth and so icy the temperature.

The great peculiarity and remarkable beauty of Lake Wakitipu lies in the precipitous mountains that descend sheer into the lake in one straight line, varying from 3000 to 9000 feet. There are no undulating slopes or breaks in the range; no peeps of the country outside the mountains, which rise up as a fixed and impassable barrier, shutting us in whichever side we turn—making us unconsciously long for a glimpse of the outer world.

The captain of the Mountaineer told me that it is believed (from soundings) that the formation of the bed of the lake assumes the same shape as the mountains above; therefore, if we could look down into their icy depths, we should see the phenomenon of mountains turned upside down. It struck me as being a very pretty but fantastic theory.