I Have Little To Tell You Concerning The Rangitata Different From What I
Have Already Written About The Waimakiriri And The Harpur.
The first
great interest was, of course, finding the country which we took up; the
next was what I confess to the weakness of having enjoyed much more -
namely, a most magnificent view of that most magnificent mountain, Mount
Cook.
It is one of the grandest I have ever seen. I will give you a
short account of the day.
We started from a lonely valley, down which runs a stream called Forest
Creek. It is an ugly, barren-looking place enough - a deep valley
between two high ranges, which are not entirely clear of snow for more
than three or four months in the year. As its name imports, it has some
wood, though not much, for the Rangitata back country is very bare of
timber. We started, as I said, from the bottom of this valley on a
clear frosty morning - so frosty that the tea-leaves in our pannikins
were frozen, and our outer blanket crisped with frozen dew. We went up
a little gorge, as narrow as a street in Genoa, with huge black and
dripping precipices overhanging it, so as almost to shut out the light
of heaven. I never saw so curious a place in my life. It soon opened
out, and we followed up the little stream which flowed through it. This
was no easy work. The scrub was very dense, and the rocks huge. The
spaniard "piked us intil the bane," and I assure you that we were hard
set to make any headway at all. At last we came to a waterfall, the
only one worthy of the name that I have yet seen. This "stuck us up,"
as they say here concerning any difficulty. We managed, however, to
"slew" it, as they, no less elegantly, say concerning the surmounting of
an obstacle. After five hours of most toilsome climbing, we found the
vegetation become scanty, and soon got on to the loose shingle which was
near the top of the range.
In seven hours from the time we started, we were on the top. Hence we
had hoped to discover some entirely new country, but were disappointed,
for we only saw the Mackenzie Plains lying stretched out for miles away
to the southward. These plains are so called after a notorious
shepherd, who discovered them some few years since. Keeping his
knowledge to himself, he used to steal his master's sheep and drive them
quietly into his unsuspected hiding-place. This he did so cleverly that
he was not detected until he had stolen many hundred. Much obscurity
hangs over his proceedings: it is supposed that he made one successful
trip down to Otago, through this country, and sold a good many of the
sheep he had stolen. He is a man of great physical strength, and can be
no common character; many stories are told about him, and his fame will
be lasting.
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