When passing over some portions of the great scoria plain, we found all of the plants and shrubs peculiar to the region growing together with dwarf trees, but all so artistically dispersed by the hand of Nature as to appear like miniature gardens, with winding walks that formed a perfect labyrinth. In fact, so beautifully and carefully designed were some of these parterres, that it was almost impossible to believe that they had not been artificially formed. Every species of plant that we had hitherto found in the district grew in them, with a vast variety of shrubs we had not before observed, while the scoria winding about the clumps of vegetation was so even as to appear as if it had been artificially rolled down.
The Whangaehu River, which takes its rise in the eastern side of Ruapehu, is one of the largest streams in the colony. Bursting forth high up in the snows of the mountain, it crosses the desert in an easterly direction, and then, with the fall of the country, takes a swift bend towards the south in its course to the coast, where it joins the sea, in a distance of about sixty miles from its source. From the point where it issues from the mountain, and for many miles as it winds through the plains, its waters are rendered perfectly white from the enormous amount of alum with which they are charged. We had been informed by the natives at Tokanu that the source of this river rose in an enormous black rock, or dark bluff, which forms a conspicuous feature near the eastern base of the mountain, and it was therefore towards this point we directed our course.
The whole of this side of Ruapehu appeared singularly rugged, and above the deep gorges the enormous bluffs and precipices seemed to mount one above the other to the glacier-crowned peaks above. We struck into a boulder-strewn ravine, and, after following this along for a considerable distance, we found that it brought us to the dark mass of rocks which the natives had indicated to us. It was, however, clear at once that the true source of the river was a long distance up the mountain from this point. The dark rocks, which were nothing more than enormous outcrops of lava, formed the portals, or entrance, as it were, to a still deeper gorge, which led further into the mountain, and which looked as weird and as dismal as anything Dante or Doré had ever created. When we had got fairly into this tremendous chasm, a most curious sight presented itself. Below our feet was the bed of the ravine, strewn with boulders of all sizes, which lay scattered about in endless confusion, as if hurled from the heights above by the hands of mountain giants. On our left rose an immense lava wall, over 100 feet in height, and on our right, rising from the bed of the ravine, was a wide stratum of alluvial drift, composed of sand and water-worn boulders. Resting on this stratum, just as it had cooled, was a lava stream, about 200 feet in perpendicular height, as sharp and as clear in all its proportions as if it had been cast out but yesterday from the fiery craters of the mountain. Dark, bright, and shining with a metallic lustre, it looked like a solid wall of bronze built by Cyclopean hands, the stupendous jagged ridge which crowned it resembling the rampart of an embattled fortress. This appeared to be one of the grandest specimens of a trachytic lava bed to be found in any part of the world, and it formed one of the most interesting geological phenomena I had ever beheld. Looking at this stupendous mass, one could fairly realize how widespread and how tremendous in its proportions must have been the volcanic action of Ruapehu. The stream of lava which had formed this great deposit had evidently come from one of the many central craters of the mountain, and had rolled down in a molten stream for a distance of several miles, until it had gradually cooled into its present form. When gazing up at this singular monument, it could be seen that there was not a single flaw in its whole surface to mar the general outline of its colossal proportions. Here and there from the hard metallic surface, which shone like bronze by some powerful agency difficult to comprehend, blocks of the adamantine rock had fallen into the ravine below, but even every line of their surface was as sharp and as angular as if they had been just wrought into form under our eyes.
GREAT TRACHYTIC LAVA BED.
When we had travelled a considerable distance up to the head of this wild gorge, we found it impossible to get out of it except by the way we had come, so we headed back again, and climbed, with great difficulty and at considerable risk, up the enormous bluff forming the entrance to the gorge, the sharp edges of the lava being particularly rough on our hands. Once at the summit of the bluff, we gained a long spur which formed the top of the great bed of lava we had examined in the ravine below, and which was here about 600 yards in width, as evidenced by the rugged outcrops of black rock that rose above the surface of the ground on every side. Travelling for a short distance up this steep ridge, we descended a rocky precipice to the right into another weird gorge, where the milky waters of the Whangaehu came bounding in a rapid descent over boulders and rocky precipices. We crossed the river at this point, and we kept the stream on our left for a considerable distance up the mountain.
When we had followed up this ravine for a long distance we came to another scoria spur, mounting upwards towards the mountain. About two miles up this the ravine widened out, with high lava walls on either side, while right in the centre rose a high ridge of lava, which ended in steep, sloping ridges of fine scoria. The great snow peaks beyond now came into full view, and at a height of 5300 feet the ravine opened out on our left, and over the flat terrace above a large waterfall fell from a height of 150 feet over a semicircular precipice into a deep, rocky basin, and, as the vast volume of water poured on to the great rocks beneath, it resounded through the ravine like the echo of distant thunder. We named this the "Horseshoe Fall" from the shape of the precipice over which the water fell.
From the Horseshoe Fall we mounted still higher up a very steep ascent on to a flat-topped scoria spur, which immediately to the right descended into a rugged ravine over a sheer precipice of 400 feet, while to the left of the ridge, which we followed up, rolled the Whangaehu, at a depth of about 300 feet in the gorge below, and beyond which the giant form of one of the principal spurs of the mountain, built up of scoria and layers of lava, rose to a height of about 1000 feet above us. We were now high up in the mountain, and the cold wind from the snow-crowned glacier above swept over us with a chilly blast, while the colossal walls of rock, towering above on every side, cast their weird shadows around, and blocked out every ray of sunlight. We climbed for about three miles further up the dreary scoria spurs, the monotonous appearance of which was only relieved by the fantastic outcrops of lava rock, which jutted up above the surface in every direction, as if still hot and quaking with subterranean heat. One of the most remarkable features about these fantastic outcrops of lava was that time and the devastating effects of the elements to which they must have been subjected for hundreds, nay, thousands, of years, appeared to have left no traces upon them, the hard, metallic-looking surface of the rock being as sharp in outline as if it had but just got cool from the terrific heat of the stupendous fires, which had left their impress in every direction over the face of the mountain. Not a sign of vegetation was to be seen anywhere. We could not even get a glimpse of the country around, as the windings of the enormous gorge had led us, as it were, into the very heart of the mountain, and had surrounded us with its high, rugged walls. As we climbed still further to the glacier-crowned heights above us, the appearance of this wild ravine became still more desolate; rugged, craggy boulders of black rock were scattered about the slopes in every direction, and we had to climb over huge masses of rock that barred our pathway. Thick icicles now covered the ground, hung in festoons from the rocks, and bedecked the high precipices in the form of a glittering fringe, while the snow was not only on the heights above, but in the deep ravines beneath us. In the distance we could hear the loud roaring of a cataract, and, as we pressed on, the sound of the falling water resounded louder and louder, and at an altitude of 6250 feet another waterfall, far larger and more beautiful than the one we had previously discovered, burst into view. We had hoped that this would prove the source of the river, as it was now late in the day, and it was clear that we would not have much more time for climbing if we wished to gain our camp before nightfall. We soon found, however, that the great gorge still wound into the mountain for 1000 feet above, and that the true source of the river was yet further ahead. We took our first rest at this stage, and gazed in admiration at the leaping volume of water in front of us. Here, on our right, rose a gigantic bluff of lava and conglomerated rock, while round this frowning point and coursing down the steep incline of the gorge, up which we were ascending, swept the white waters of the Whangaehu, until the whole volume, concentrated into a narrow rocky channel, burst over a precipice with a fall of 300 feet into the rocky gorge below. This was one of the most beautiful and unique cascades I had ever seen. All around the craggy rocks were white with a deposit of alum from the spray of the fall, while the water, of a milky hue, poured over the precipice in a continuous frothy stream, which appeared by its whiteness like folds of delicate lace. This beautiful cascade had not the sparkle and glitter of ordinary waterfalls, but a soft, milky appearance different to anything I had ever beheld before. The big, circular, rock-bound basin, into which the water fell, was decorated around its sides with fantastic clusters of icicles, all of the same milky whiteness, and mingling as they did with the still whiter snow, they served to complete one of the most singular and attractive features of this weird ravine. We named this the "Bridal Veil Fall" on account of its peculiar lace-like appearance.
