On these treeless plains and the eastern slopes of 45 the hills, the early settlers found pasture ready-made for their flocks; as there was no clearing of forest to be done. So, to-day, this part of South Island has still the most important sheep-rearing industry in New Zealand.
Here is a typical farm near the foothills, with 46 cattle feeding on the rich pasture. Again, we have a scene nearer Canterbury, showing a great expanse of 47 grain, with the reapers at work. The rainfall is so small that in some parts of the plain there is not enough water for the farmer, so that artificial irrigation is 48 necessary, and there are now many miles of water races strung across the country. It seems strange to talk of drought and irrigation after our experiences of the west coast, but we may understand it better if we look at the figures of annual rainfall. At Hokitika, and all along the west coast as far north as Greymouth, the fall is a hundred inches or more; while in the extreme south-west corner it is over two hundred. On the other hand, all the low-lying parts of the Canterbury Plains have less than thirty inches; in fact, we may compare them to the east and south-east districts of England. In England, as in South Island, we find heavy rains in the west, and the explanation is similar in both cases. The prevailing moist winds are from the west, so that the eastern plains lie under the lee of the mountains.
South Island: Rainfall.
If we remember the latitude of South Island we might expect to find it rather warm; but we must take account of other things than latitude. It is true that there are occasional hot winds blowing down from the mountains over the Canterbury Plains, but the island as a whole is cool. The great mass of highland, with its winter covering of snow, the perpetual moist winds and the cool currents of the ocean all help to modify the heat of the sun’s rays, and to give us a climate not in the least enervating for English settlers.
As we approach Christchurch the farms are closer together and the whole country is enclosed and cultivated. For mile after mile we run past green hedgerows as in England; and in the spring these are ablaze with the yellow of the gorse blossom, while the scent hangs heavy in the air. Then, through suburbs with villas and gardens, we reach the city itself. Christchurch is as typically English as Dunedin is Scotch. It was founded by an association of High Churchmen who bought land from the New Zealand Land Company in 1850, and it still boasts the only cathedral in the Dominion. Here is a general view of the city. We 49 shall find much to remind us of England in the social life, the clubs and sports of the city, and its beautiful park planted with English trees. The Avon flows through it, with its riverside houses whose lawns slope down to the banks; there are willows 50 overhanging the water and swans swimming about, and the whole scene might be taken for a quiet 51 backwater on the Thames. It is often said that emigrants from Britain carry a piece of their homeland with them; there can be no better illustration of this than Christchurch and Dunedin.
The cathedral, the parks and gardens and beautiful residences show us one side of English life; but Christchurch has another side. Its people are not idle. We see here warehouses, offices, and busy factories, as befits the chief centre of the whole Canterbury district. In one respect, however, it differs from the other large cities of New Zealand; it is not on the sea. We shall see its trade and shipping at Lyttelton, 52 seven miles away by rail. Lyttelton lies on an arm of the sea to the north of the Banks Peninsula, a volcanic 53 mass breaking the line of the long smooth coast, just as the Otago Peninsula at Dunedin. But the activities of the two cities are not the same: Dunedin, the outlet of the coal and gold-mining area of Otago, has its School of Mines, as well as of medicine and other subjects; while Christchurch, the city of the fertile plain, in addition to a great engineering department, has its Lincoln Agricultural College. Here are the college buildings, and here we see some of the students 54 at practical work, threshing wheat in the fields. Thus we see a contrast which is purely geographical reflected 55 in the world of education.
If we follow the great plain northwards from Christchurch, we shall find that it narrows gradually and comes to an end at last, against the seaward range of the Kaikoura Mountains. Our road north is stopped, but we can follow the railway north-westward to Springfield; thence we go by coach, over the Alps through Arthur’s Pass and down the Otira Gorge, until we strike the short railway which will take us to Greymouth and the west coast. This is the only coach road over the Alps, and we can learn much in the course of our exciting forty mile run.
We climb up, by a twisting road, over open slopes covered with brown tussock grass. Here and there we pass a mountain tarn, and all the time above us are purple mountains capped with dazzling fields of snow. 56 We cross the saddle at the summit of the pass, 3000 feet above the sea, and then plunge down through a deep cañon gorge, following the narrow bed of a mountain 57 stream. Instead of the open mountain side, all around us are high fern-clad cliffs, steep slopes and dense forest, all ablaze in summer with the scarlet rata blossom. We have seen, on our short journey, the east and the west countries, in the sharpest possible contrast. Soon, the rail-heads on either side will be linked, and a rush through miles of dark tunnel will take the place of the splendid drive on the coach, though doubtless many will still prefer the road to the rail.
From Greymouth another line of rail and coach will take us through another famous gorge on a zigzag course to Nelson on Tasman Bay. We realise that communication in this part of the island is very difficult, and we shall find that the isolation of the different areas of settlement has been an important factor in the political development of New Zealand.