The next morning was again bright with a warm wind; so the effect of the night's frost soon disappeared, and we were hard at work directly after breakfast. Nothing would induce me to stay at home, but I armed myself with a coal-scoop to dig, and we made our way to the other "mob;" but, alas! there was nothing to do in the way of saving life, for all the sheep were dead. There was a large island formed at a bend in the creek, where the water had swept with such fury round a point as to wash the snow and sheep all away together, till at some little obstacle they began to accumulate in a heap. I counted ninety-two dead ewes in one spot, but I did not stay to count the lambs. We returned to the place where we had been digging the day before, and set the dogs to hunt in the drifts; wherever they began to scratch we shovelled the snow away, and were sure to find sheep either dead or nearly so: however, we liberated a good many more. This sort of work continued till the following Saturday, when F—— returned, having had a most dangerous journey, as the roads are still blocked up in places with snow-drifts; but he was anxious to get back, knowing I must have been going through "hard times." He was terribly shocked at the state of things among the sheep; in Christchurch no definite news had reached them from any quarter: all the coaches were stopped and the telegraph wires broken down by the snow. He arrived about mid-day, and, directly after the meal we still called dinner, started off over the hills to my "nest of Cockatoos," and brought back some of the men with him to help to search for the sheep, and to skin those that were dead as fast as possible. He worked himself all day at the skinning,—a horrible job; but the fleeces were worth something, and soon all the fences, as they began to emerge from the snow, were tapestried with these ghastly skins, and walking became most disagreeable, on account of the evil odours arising every few yards.
We forgot all our personal sufferings in anxiety about the surviving sheep, and when the long-expected dray arrived it seemed a small boon compared to the discovery of a nice little "mob" feeding tranquilly on a sunny spur. It is impossible to estimate our loss until the grand muster at shearing, but we may set it down at half our flock, and all our lambs, or at least 90 per cent. of them. Our neighbours are all as busy as we are, so no accurate accounts of their sufferings or losses have reached us; but, to judge by appearances, the distant "back-country" ranges must have felt the storm more severely even than we have; and although the snow did not drift to such a depth on the plains as with us, or lie so long on the ground, they suffered just as much,—for the sheep took shelter under the high river-banks, and the tragedy of the creeks was enacted on a still larger scale; or they drifted along before the first day's gale till they came to a wire fence, and there they were soon covered up, and trampled each other to death. Not only were sheep, but cattle, found dead in hundreds along the fences on the plains. The newspapers give half a million as a rough estimate of the loss among the flocks in this province alone. We have no reliable news from other parts of the island, only vague rumours of the storm having been still more severe in the Province of Otago, which lies to the south, and would be right in its track; the only thing which all are agreed in saying is, that there never has been such a storm before, for the Maories are strong in weather traditions, and though they prophesied this one, it is said they have no legend of anything like it ever having happened.
Letter XXI: Wild cattle hunting in the Kowai Bush.
Mount Torlesse, October 1867. We are staying for a week at a charming little white cottage covered with roses and honeysuckles, nestled under the shadow of this grand mountain, to make some expeditions after wild cattle in the great Kowai Bush. I am afraid that it does not sound a very orderly and feminine occupation, but I enjoy it thoroughly, and have covered myself with glory and honour by my powers of walking all day.
We have already spent three long happy days in the Bush, and although they have not resulted in much slaughter of our big game, still I for one am quite as well pleased as if we had returned laden with as many beeves as used to come in from a border foray. I am not going to inflict an account of each expedition on you; one will serve to give an idea of all, for though there is no monotony in Nature, it may chance that frequent descriptions of her become so, and this I will not risk.
Our ride over here was a sufficiently ridiculous affair, owing to the misbehaviour of the pack-horse, for it was impossible upon this occasion to manage with as little luggage as usual, so we arranged to take a good-sized carpet-bag (a most unheard-of luxury), and on each side of it was to be slung a rifle and a gun, and smaller bags of bullets, shot, and powder-flasks, disposed to the best advantage on the pack-saddle. This was all very well in theory, but when it came to the point, the proper steady old horse who was to bear the pack was not forthcoming! He had taken it into his head to go on a visit to a neighbouring run, so the only available beast was a young chestnut of most uncertain temper. The process of saddling him was a long one, as he objected to each item of his load as soon as it was put on, especially to the guns; but F—— was very patient, and took good care to tie and otherwise fasten everything so that it was impossible for "Master Tucker" (called, I suppose, after the immortal Tommy) to get rid of his load by either kicking or plunging. At last we mounted and rode by a bridle-path among the hills for some twelve miles or so, then across half-a-dozen miles of plain, and finally we forded a river. The hill-track was about as bad as a path could be, with several wide jumps across creeks at the bottom of the numerous deep ravines, or gullies as we call them. F—— rode first—for we could only go in single file—with the detestable Tucker's bridle over his arm; then came the chestnut, with his ears well back, and his eyes all whites, in his efforts to look at his especial aversion, the guns; he kicked all the way down the many hills, and pulled back in the most aggravating manner at each ascent, and when we came to a creek sat down on his tail, refusing to stir. My position was a most trying one; the track was so bad that I would fain have given my mind entirely to my own safety, but instead of this all my attention was centred on Tucker the odious. When we first started I expressed to F—— my fear that Tucker would fairly drag him off his own saddle, and he admitted that it was very likely, adding, "You must flog him." This made me feel that it entirely depended on my efforts whether F—— was to be killed or not, so I provided myself with a small stock-whip in addition to my own little riding-whip, and we set off. From the first yard Tucker objected to go, but there were friendly sticks to urge him on; however, we soon got beyond the reasonable limits of help, and I tried desperately to impress upon Tucker that I was going to be very severe: for this purpose I flourished my stock-whip in a way that drove my own skittish mare nearly frantic, and never touched Tucker, whom F—— was dragging along by main force. At last I gave up the stock-whip, with its unmanageable three yards of lash, and dropped it on the track, to be picked up as we came home. I now tried to hit Tucker with my horse-whip, but he flung his heels up in Helen's face the moment I touched him. I was in perfect despair, very much afraid of a sudden swerve on my mare's part sending us both down the precipice, and in equal dread of seeing F—— pulled off his saddle by Tucker's suddenly planting his fore-feet firmly together: F—— himself, with the expression of a martyr, looking round every now and then to say, "Can't you make him come on?" and I hitting wildly and vainly, feeling all the time that I was worse than useless. At last the bright idea occurred to me to ride nearly alongside of the fiendish Tucker, but a little above him on the hill, so as to be able to strike him fairly without fear of his heels. As far as Tucker was concerned this plan answered perfectly, for he soon found out he had to go; but Helen objected most decidedly to being taken off the comparative safety of the track and made to walk on a slippery, sloping hill, where she could hardly keep her feet; however, we got on much faster this way. Oh, how tired I was of striking Tucker! I don't believe I hurt him much, but I felt quite cruel. When we came to the plain, I begged F—— to let me lead him; so we changed, and there was no holding back on the chestnut's part then; it must have been like the grass and the stones in the fable. I never was more thankful than when that ride was over, though its disagreeables were soon forgotten in the warm welcome we received from our bachelor hosts, and the incessant discussions about the next day's excursion.
We had finished breakfast by seven o'clock the following morning, and were ready to start. Of course the gentlemen were very fussy about their equipments, and hung themselves all over with cartridges and bags of bullets and powder-flasks; then they had to take care that their tobacco-pouches and match-boxes were filled; and lastly, each carried a little flask of brandy or sherry, in case of being lost and having to camp out. I felt quite unconcerned, having only my flask with cold tea in it to see about, and a good walking-stick was easily chosen. My costume may be described as uncompromising, for it had been explained to me that there were no paths but real rough bush walking; so I dispensed with all little feminine adornments even to the dearly-loved chignon, tucked my hair away as if I was going to put on a bathing-cap, and covered it with a Scotch bonnet. The rest of my toilette must have been equally shocking to the eyes of taste, and I have reason to believe the general effect most hideous; but one great comfort was, no one looked at me, they were all too much absorbed in preparations for a great slaughter, and I only came at all upon sufferance; the unexpressed but prevailing dread, I could plainly see, was that I should knock up and become a bore, necessitating an early return home; but I knew better!
An American waggon and some ponies were waiting to take the whole party to the entrance of the bush, about four miles off, and, in spite of having to cross a rough river-bed, which is always a slow process, it did not take us very long to reach our first point. Here we dismounted, just at the edge of the great dense forest, and, with as little delay as possible in fine arrangements, struck into a path or bullock-track, made for about three miles into the bush for the convenience of dragging out the felled trees by ropes or chains attached to bullocks; they are not placed upon a waggon, so you may easily imagine the state the track was in, ploughed up by huge logs of timber dragged on the ground, and by the bullocks' hoofs besides. It was a mere slough with deep holes of mud in it, and we scrambled along its extreme edge, chiefly trusting to the trees on each side, which still lay as they had been felled, the men not considering them good enough to remove. At last we came to a clearing, and I quite despair of making you understand how romantic and lovely this open space in the midst of the tall trees looked that beautiful spring morning. I involuntarily thought of the descriptions in "Paul and Virginia," for the luxuriance of the growth was quite tropical. For about two acres the trees had been nearly all felled, only one or two giants remaining; their stumps were already hidden by clematis and wild creepers of other kinds, or by a sort of fern very like the hart's-tongue, which will only grow on the bark of trees, and its glossy leaves made an exquisite contrast to the rough old root. The "bushmen"—as the men who have bought twenty-acre sections and settled in the bush are called—had scattered English grass-seed all over the rich leafy mould, and the ground was covered with bright green grass, kept short and thick by a few tame goats browsing about. Before us was the steep bank of the river Waimakiriri, and a few yards from its edge stood a picturesque gable-ended little cottage surrounded by a rustic fence, which enclosed a strip of garden gay with common English spring flowers, besides more useful things, potatoes, etc. The river was about two hundred yards broad just here, and though it foamed below us, we could also see it stretching away in the distance almost like a lake, till a great bluff hid it from our eyes. Overhead the trees were alive with flocks of wild pigeons, ka-kas, parroquets, and other birds, chattering and twittering incessantly and as we stood on the steep bank and looked down, I don't think a minute passed without a brace of wild ducks flying past, grey, blue, and Paradise. These latter are the most beautiful plumaged birds I ever saw belonging to the duck tribe, and, when young, are very good eating, quite as delicate as the famous canvas-back. This sight so excited our younger sportsmen that they scrambled down the high precipice, followed by a water-spaniel, and in five minutes had bagged as many brace. We could not give them any more time, for it was past nine o'clock, and we were all eager to start on the serious business of the day; but before we left, the mistress of this charming "bush-hut" insisted on our having some hot coffee and scones and wild honey, a most delicious second breakfast. There was a pretty little girl growing up, and a younger child, both the picture of health; the only drawback seemed to be the mosquitoes; it was not very lonely, for one or two other huts stood in clearings adjoining, and furnished us with three bushmen as guides and assistants. I must say, they were the most picturesque of the party, being all handsome men, dressed in red flannel shirts and leathern knickerbockers and gaiters; they had fine beards, and wore "diggers' hats," a head-dress of American origin—a sort of wide-awake made of plush, capable of being crushed into any shape, and very becoming. All were armed with either rifle or gun, and one carried an axe and a coil of rope; another had a gun such as is seldom seen out of an arsenal; it was an old flint lock, but had been altered to a percussion; its owner was very proud of it, not so much for its intrinsic beauty, though it once had been a costly and splendid weapon and was elaborately inlaid with mother-of-pearl, but because it had belonged to a former Duke of Devonshire. In spite of its claims to consideration on this head as well as its own beauty, we all eyed it with extreme disfavour on account of a peculiarity it possessed of not going off when it was intended to do so, but about five minutes afterwards.
It was suggested to me very politely that I might possibly prefer to remain behind and spend the day in this picturesque spot, but this offer I declined steadily; I think the bushmen objected to my presence more than any one else, as they really meant work, and dreaded having to turn back for a tired "female" (they never spoke of me by any other term). At last all the information was collected about the probable whereabouts of the wild cattle—it was so contradictory, that it must have been difficult to arrange any plan by it,—and we started. A few hundred yards took us past the clearings and into the very heart of the forest. We had left the sun shining brightly overhead; here it was all a "great green gloom." I must describe to you the order in which we marched. First came two of the most experienced "bush-hands," who carried a tomahawk or light axe with which to clear the most cruel of the brambles away, and to notch the trees as a guide to us on our return; and also a compass, for we had to steer for a certain point, the bearings of which we knew—of course the procession was in Indian file: next to these pioneers walked, very cautiously, almost on tiptoe, four of our sportsmen; then I came; and four or five others, less keen or less well armed, brought up the rear. I may here confess that I endured in silence agonies of apprehension for my personal safety all day. It was so dreadful to see a bramble or wild creeper catch in the lock of the rifle before me, and to reflect that, unless its owner was very careful, it might "go off of its own accord," and to know that I was exposed to a similar danger from those behind.