From Roto Ngaio we rounded Te Kohae Point, where the shore was covered with various kinds of drift washed up by the lake, and by which it could be plainly seen that the water-line during the rainy months was considerably higher than during the dry season. The shore-line hereabout was walled in by tall cliffs of pure white pumice, which rose up perpendicularly from 200 to 300 feet in height, and there were no signs of vegetation, save the scanty growth of fern that seemed to struggle for existence along the tops of the precipices.
We crossed the Hinemaiai River, which cut its way through a valley of flat-topped terraces, and at midday we camped for an hour at Tehatepe, a deserted Maori settlement, where peach, cherries, and other fruit-trees grew in picturesque confusion in a garden-like expanse of bush. At every settlement along the lake, whether occupied or deserted, we found extensive peach groves growing in the greatest luxuriance, many of the finest kinds of this delicious fruit being produced from the sterile-looking pumice lands.
The view from this place, looking across the lake towards the western bay, was most charming. The day was singularly warm and bright for the season of the year, and as we sat under a deep cluster of acacia-trees, and admired the beauties of the wide expanse of calm blue water before us, there was nothing to mar the quiet tranquillity of the spot, save innumerable blowflies that swarmed around us in an unpleasantly familiar kind of way.
After leaving Tehatepe, we crossed the Totara and Waipehi streams, flowing into the lake from pumice hills in the distance, and came to a jutting point, where the cliffs rose to a height of several hundred feet above us. The track led over the tops of these, but, in order to avoid taking our horses by that way, we waded into the lake amidst the boulders and rocks, with the water over the horses' backs, and after rounding several huge masses of rock and jutting points, we gained the foot of another high headland, called Te Poroporo, up which we had to climb from the water by steep and dangerous rocky ledges, over which our horses had to scramble as if going up a slippery flight of steps. Over this steep cliff the path wound higher and higher until for a long distance it attained an elevation of over 100 feet above the water, with a high cliff wall on one side and a precipitous descent into the lake below on the other.
The view of the grand surroundings obtained from this elevation was beautiful in the extreme. The lake, like a vast inland sea, was spread out beneath us, while immediately below our track the shore-line was dotted with gigantic boulders, among which innumerable wild duck were disporting themselves in the pellucid water. Beyond, towards the south, the mountains towered to the skies, and Tongariro appeared to be giving off a greater cloud of steam than it had done at any time during the previous day. The picturesque island of Motutaiko lay right beneath us, the whares of Tokanu could be plainly seen, backed by a cloud of vapour from the hot springs; while on the other side of the lake, in the direction of the north-east, we could discern a vapoury column rising from Te Karipiti, and big, white clouds of steam floating over the geyser valley at Wairakei.
When we gained the level shore-line the country became very picturesque, the low flats ending in small valleys and low hills, many of which partook of the flat terrace formation so remarkable in the pumice country. A large canoe, filled with natives, passed by us, speeding in the direction of the western shore, the frail craft shooting rapidly over the water, with the well-timed stroke of the paddles, which moved with the regularity of clockwork to the loud refrain of the dusky voyagers as they sped on their way.
At Motutere, a small, low peninsula jutting out into the lake, we found the remains of an extensive pa, with burial-places, and carved palisading, which lay scattered about the ground. There were likewise the remains of a wharekarakia, or church, a ruined monument where the first light of Christianity had dawned upon a heathen people. This place, which was most delightfully situated, bore evidence of having been at one time a populous native settlement, which had gradually dwindled away until it had become the haunt of a few wild pigs that squealed and grunted at us as we passed through the deserted cultivations, which were still marked by the peach and the rose-tree.
Beyond Motutere the shore-line took a graceful curve in the form of a wide bay, with a white pumice shore, picturesque hills rising gracefully on our left, and jutting points running out in the direction of the lake. Here, too, the vegetation was more green and luxuriant, and the soil of a better quality than towards the north. We forded the Waitotaka River, a clear, rapid stream, flowing from the direction of the Kaimanawa Mountains, and a short distance farther on we came to Tauranga Taupo, a native settlement on the banks of the river of that name. Beyond, the country opened out into low, fern-clad plains, backed by low ridges of hills. The shades of evening closed around us near to this point, so we pitched our camp for the night hard by a flax swamp which here bordered the lake.[42]
We struck camp soon after the first streak of dawn had swept over the snows of Ruapehu, and passed around the southern end of the lake in the direction of Tokanu. We soon reached the peninsula Motuoapa, a bold, rocky promontory connected with the mainland by a low, narrow neck. At one time a formidable pa stood on this place, and many of the old earthworks may yet be distinctly traced. Its position is a most beautiful one, jutting out into the lake over a wide bay, and it reminded me at the first glance of the bold, rugged peaks one sees crowned by feudal strongholds around the lakes of the old country. At a short distance from Motuoapa we crossed the Waimarino River, which flows through a flat, swampy plain, which extends for a considerable distance inland from the southern shores of the lake.
The next point of interest was the delta of the Upper Waikato, where that river flows into the lake. Here the strand was covered with a light fluvial drift and pumice sand, through which our horses struggled fetlock deep. At this point the river flows into a semicircular bay, formed by a bend in the lake shore, which was here covered with flocks of a small graceful species of seagull, called by the natives tarapunga. The head and breast and under part of the body of this bird were snow white, the wings of a light grey, tipped with black, and the tail white with black bars. It frequents all parts of the lake, but is found more generally at its southern end. We forded the river some little distance above the extreme point of the delta, where the bed of the stream was about forty yards in width, and where the overhanging banks, worn away by its perpetual energy, were evidently in a constant state of transition. The river, owing to the melting of the snows at Ruapehu, was coming down at a rapid rate, and the water sweeping over our horses' backs nearly carried them from under us. The bed of the river was moreover covered with large boulders, and the animals plunged desperately in their endeavours to keep their footing against the strong stream. The banks hereabout were covered with toetoe grass and strewn with drift timber in those parts where the river during the heavy floods had burst its boundary and swept over the surrounding country. This is one of the most dangerous crossing-places around the lake at the time of a strong fresh, as the waters in their rapid descent from the highlands to the south carry everything in their course into the broad lake beyond.