The King Country; or, Explorations in New Zealand: A Narrative of 600 Miles of Travel Through Maoriland.Kerry-Nicholls, J. H. (James Henry)
History
The King Country; or, Explorations in New Zealand: A Narrative of 600 Miles of Travel Through Maoriland.
Kerry-Nicholls, J. H. (James Henry)
New Zealand -- Description and travel
When the storm had spent its force, a gleam of sunshine dispelled the
mists, and just for a time the summit of Ruapehu shone white and clear
beneath the rolling clouds. We had carefully marked our intended course
upon the map, and had resolved as soon as the weather should break to
make direct for the southern side of Tongariro, and ascend the tapued
mountain as quickly as we could, in order to give the natives, if they
fell across our tracks, as short a time as possible to run us to earth.
With the hope, if not altogether the prospect, of a fine day, we made
another start, but not before we had been compelled, owing to the weak
condition of our horses, to abandon half our provisions, and reduce our
whole commissariat to the lowest proportions.
Before we had journeyed a mile the bright sun disappeared; the "black,
cloudy sky" of the Rangipo again gathered around us; the winds swept
across the wide plains in terrific gusts; the rain poured down heavier
than before; the white snow-clad summit of Ruapehu disappeared from
view with the quickness of a phantom, and again the vapouring mists
obscured the great mountains towards which we were travelling.
We had to cross no less than five large creeks, besides smaller
streams, in about four miles. The tracts down to the creeks, which had
a steep fall of 200 to 300 feet below the plains, were broken about
and washed away into big holes and dangerous and slippery places, and
the horses were as chary of facing these treacherous inclines as they
were of going into the flooded waters of the creeks themselves. The
amount of water poured out by these creeks into the Waikato from the
Tongariro Mountains during a flood must be seen to be fully realized.
At all times the natural springs of the mountains keep them well
supplied, but when heavy rains descend, the whole watershed comes down
with tremendous force and volume. Wherever we crossed these rugged,
boulder-strewn streams, the banks were clothed with a splendid and
varied vegetation, which got denser and denser as their deep gorges
led up the steep mountain sides. I noticed in these creeks that the
boulders were mostly of trachytic formation, with smaller drift
composed of the various volcanic rocks peculiar to the district, while
embedded in their steep pumice sides might often be seen the charred
remains of enormous trees, which must have lived ages ago, when some
volcanic eruption swept over them.
We pitched our camp at Pangarara, a deserted Maori _pa_, situated some
distance off the plains, and at the edge of a secluded bush about two
miles from the south-eastern foot of Tongariro. The rain still poured
down as heavily as usual, and although the country was entirely open
between us and the big mountain that was to be the next scene of our
operations, not a vestige of it could we see.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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