New Zealand as a colony has gone ahead too rapidly, and without counting the cost. It has built railroads too fast; that is, before they are absolutely required,—railroads running straight into the "bush," without any raison d'être; and the present reaction is but a natural sequence arising from extravagance. Undoubtedly these "bush" railroads, as they are now called, will help to open up the country through which they run; but even this may be done at too great a cost. Experience has demonstrated the wisdom of a rule the reverse of that which has been adopted here; namely, first to wait for a certain amount of population and business before furnishing the expensive railroad facilities required for their accommodation.
The kauri-tree, though a conifer,—the pine of this country,—is not at all like our North American pine; instead of needles, its foliage consists of leaves of sombre green. The botanists call it Dammara Australis. It produces a timber, however, which for some uses is unequalled. It is very slow of growth, is remarkably durable, easily worked, of fine grain, and does not split or warp by atmospheric exposure. We were told that the kauri-tree requires eight hundred years to arrive at maturity. One of the first objects to attract our attention upon landing at Auckland was a number of kauri tree trunks brought to the wharf for shipment. Some of these logs measured seven feet in diameter, and were from eighty to ninety feet in length. To visit the kauri-forests of the Auckland district one takes cars from the city to Helensville, a distance of forty or fifty miles, where the Kaipara River is reached, upon which small steamers ply, taking one directly to the desired spot. Here the busy saw-mills, which are gradually consuming these valuable trees, are so located that vessels of two thousand tons can load at their yards, and with their cargoes pass directly out to sea. It is singular that while this district is the only place in New Zealand where the kauri-trees are found, nearly every other species of tree indigenous to the country is also found here,—among them the rimu, the matai, the white and silver pines, the tooth-leaved beech, and the totara, all in close proximity to the kauri, and together forming a most remarkable conglomeration of species.
It was our good fortune to travel in the kauri-forests with Professor Kirk, Conservator of State Forests, and from him many interesting facts were learned. Here over seven millions of acres are forest-covered. The mills give permanent occupation to five or six thousand men, and the gum-digging carried on close at hand is pursued as a regular occupation by at least two thousand more. The saw-mills, as regards their machinery and capacity, are among the most complete we have ever seen, employing the best modern inventions to facilitate their operations and output, which averages six or seven million feet of dimension-timber annually. There are six of these mills in this immediate locality, each of which has in its own right many thousand acres of land bearing a sufficiency of good timber to supply them for twelve years to come. It is believed that by that time all the kauri-forests of New Zealand will be worked out or exhausted. In anticipation of the failure of this supply for ship's masts and spars, iron is being very generally adopted, and will eventually take the place of wood altogether.
The commercial prosperity of Auckland and its vicinity is largely due to the harvest reaped from these forests. The kauri-tree grows to an average height of a hundred feet, with a diameter of fifteen feet and over. It is a clannish tree, so to speak; when found near to those of other species, it groups itself in clumps apart from them. One often sees, however, large forests where the kauri reigns supreme, quite unmixed with other trees; and beneath the shadow of its limbs there is no undergrowth save the verdant ferns,—Nature's universal carpet for the woodlands here. There are thus created dim perspectives and forest vistas of marvellous beauty.
The kauri gum forms a large figure in the table of exports from Auckland, and the digging and preparation of it for market, as we have shown, gives employment to many persons. The natives have a theory that the gum descends from the trunks of the growing trees, and through the roots becomes deposited in the ground. But this is not reasonable. The gum is a semi-fossilized composition, showing that it has gone through a process which only a long period of time could accomplish. It is usually found at a depth of five or six feet from the surface. It is undoubtedly the fact that the northern part of New Zealand was once covered with immense forests of this gum-producing tree, which have matured and been destroyed by fire and by decay, century after century; and the deposit which is now so marketable is from the dead trees, not the living. Experiments have been tried which prove that the gum exuded by the growing trees has no commercial value. The only evidence to give color to the Maori theory is the fact that the gum is found near the roots of young trees; but it is also found far away from any present kauri growth. It is very similar to amber, for which article it is often sold to unskilled purchasers; but its principal use is in the manufacture of varnish. Amber, it will be remembered, is the product of a now extinct tree of the pine family, whole forests of which are supposed to have been sunken in the Baltic Sea, whence our present supply of the article is mostly derived, and where these forests have been submerged for perhaps twice ten thousand years. The deposits of the kauri gum in the Auckland district seem to be inexhaustible.
On returning to the city we found quite sufficient in and about Auckland to interest and occupy us for a week and more. We made almost daily excursions, sometimes on foot and sometimes on horseback; and when mounted, our day's journey often covered a distance of many miles inland, each time in a new direction.
In our trips afield, after passing through the immediate suburbs of the city, we found outlying cottages where the garden-plats are adorned with English plants in full bloom, succeeded by thrifty farms, well-fenced fields, and highly cultivated meadows. These last were dotted here and there with choice breeds of cattle and picturesque groups of sheep. Some very fine horses were observed in this region; and there are some breeding-farms here solely devoted to the raising of fine animals for the market,—many of which, as the proprietors told us, are sent twelve hundred miles by ship to Sydney, and even still farther, to Melbourne and Adelaide. Notwithstanding this district is the oldest in its settlement by the whites of any in New Zealand, the scenery struck us as being singularly primitive, bold, and beautiful, while the bright, breezy, light, and shadow-casting atmosphere brought out every native grace of form and color. Along the roads one is delighted by the abundance of the marsh-mallow, sweet clover, wild mint, and trefoil, and only sighs for time to gather of them and leisure to enjoy their sweets. Many trees and flowers were noted which were quite new to us, and which the intelligence of our half-breed guide rendered doubly interesting. The natives had distinctive and expressive names for every fowl, tree, and flower before the white man came. There is a lovely little native daisy called tupapa, and a blue lily known by the aborigines as rengarenga; also a green and yellow passion-flower named by the Indians, kowhaia. A glutinous, golden buttercup is known as anata, which is nearly as abundant as its namesake in America. A small white fragrant flower which attracted our attention is called the potolara. All these species are wild. One morning the guide brought us a dew-spangled bunch of them all together, wound about with a delicate sweet-smelling native grass known as karetu,—the Torresia redolens of botany.
The immediate neighborhood of Auckland has been almost denuded of the original native trees, and shade is very much needed both for beauty and comfort. Fires and the woodman's axe have swept away the grand old forest and the "bush" which once covered every rod of land in this vicinity. A few English oaks and other imported trees planted by the immigrants are to be seen, besides some California pines, which are universal favorites in this country. At a short distance inland, and especially bordering salt-water inlets, the traveller is surprised and charmed by groups of the pohutukawa, a tree thus named by the Maoris. Like many other blossoming trees of the Southern Pacific, its flowers when gathered have very little individual beauty or attractiveness, its brilliant color-effect being derived from the clusters of bright scarlet stamens, which when seen in mass upon the tree appear strikingly beautiful.
We do not remember to have seen the English lark in any island south of the Equator, but they abound here, and must have been introduced by the early settlers from Great Britain.
Another fact about Auckland struck us as curious. Here we find a rich greensward carpeting hill and dale, field and lawn, which is the growth of imported seed, and which has proved so tenacious as to root out all original and opposing vegetation, and establish itself permanently. Here also may be seen the European thistle, the veritable Scotch article greatly improved by transplanting. The farmers declare that it enriches the ground,—a sentiment which we also heard expressed at Dunedin,—and every one can see for himself that it feeds the bees. New Zealand seems to be adapted for receiving into its bosom the vegetation of any land, and of imparting to it renewed life and added beauty. Its foster-mother capacity has been fully tested, and for years no ship left England for this part of the world without bringing more or less of a contribution in plants and trees to be propagated in the new home of the colonists. The consequence is that we find pines and cypresses, oaks and willows, elms and birches, besides fruit-trees of all sorts grown in Europe, thriving here in abundance, and so thoroughly acclimated as to seem indigenous.