I saw one saddle low enough to be covered with bush,ending a valley of some miles in length,through which flowed a small stream with dense bush on either side.I firmly believe that this saddle will lead to the West Coast;but as the valley was impassable for a horse,and as,being alone,I was afraid to tackle the carrying food and blankets,and to leave Doctor,who might very probably walk off whilst I was on the wrong side of the Waimakiriri,I shirked the investigation.I certainly ought to have gone up that valley.I feel as though I had left a stone unturned,and must,if all is well,at some future time take someone with me and explore it.I found a few flats up the river,but they were too small and too high up to be worth my while to take.
April,1860.--I have made another little trip,and this time have tried the Rangitata.My companion and myself have found a small piece of country,which we have just taken up.We fear it may be snowy in winter,but the expense of taking up country is very small;and even should we eventually throw it up the chances are that we may be able to do so with profit.We are,however,sanguine that it may be a very useful little run,but shall have to see it through next winter before we can safely put sheep upon it.
I have little to tell you concerning the Rangitata different from what Ihave 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.He was taken and escaped more than once,and finally was pardoned by the Governor,on condition of his leaving New Zealand.It was rather a strange proceeding,and I doubt how fair to the country which he may have chosen to honour with his presence,for I should suppose there is hardly a more daring and dangerous rascal going.
