The end of each of
which were huge glaciers, distinctly visible to the naked eye, but
through the telescope resolvable into tumbled masses of blue ice, exact
counterparts of the Swiss and Italian glaciers. These are quite
sufficient to account for the volume of water in the Rangitata, without
going any farther.
The river had been high for many days; so high that a party of men, who
were taking a dray over to a run which was then being just started on
the other side (and which is now mine), had been detained camping out
for ten days, and were delayed for ten days more before the dray could
cross. We spent a few minutes with these men, among whom was a youth
whom I had brought away from home with me, when I was starting down for
Christ Church, in order that he might get some beef from P-'s and take
it back again. The river had come down the evening on which we had
crossed it, and so he had been unable to get the beef and himself home
again.
We all wanted to get back, for home, though home be only a V hut, is
worth pushing for; a little thing will induce a man to leave it, but if
he is near his journey's end he will go through most places to reach it
again. So we determined on going on, and after great difficulty and
many turnings up one stream and down another we succeeded in getting
safely over. We were wet well over the knee, but just avoided swimming.
I got into one quicksand, of which the river is full, and had to jump
off my mare, but this was quite near the bank.
I had a cat on the pommel of my saddle, for the rats used to come and
take the meat from off our very plates by our side. She got a sousing
when the mare was in the quicksand, but I heard her purring not very
long after, and was comforted. Of course she was in a bag. I do not
know how it is, but men here are much fonder of cats than they are at
home.
After we had crossed the river, there were many troublesome creeks yet
to go through - sluggish and swampy, with bad places for getting in and
out at; these, however, were as nothing in comparison with the river
itself, which we all had feared more than we cared to say, and which, in
good truth, was not altogether unworthy of fear.
By and by we turned up the shingly river-bed which leads to the spot on
which my hut is built. The river is called Forest Creek, and, though
usually nothing but a large brook, it was now high, and unpleasant from
its rapidity and the large boulders over which it flows.
