The King Country; or, Explorations in New Zealand: A Narrative of 600 Miles of Travel Through Maoriland.Kerry-Nicholls, J. H. (James Henry)
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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 we tasted it, it produced a marked astringent feeling upon the
tongue, leaving a strong taste of alum, sulphur, and iron, with all
of which ingredients, especially the two former, it appeared to be
strongly impregnated.[51]
It is a remarkable and interesting geographical fact that the waters
which form the source of the Waikato River burst from the sides of
Ruapehu, within a short distance of the Whangaehu, and at almost the
same altitude. Both streams run almost parallel to each other for a
long distance from their source, and then, as they reach the desert,
they gradually diverge and divide the two great watersheds of this
portion of the country, the Waikato flowing to the north into Lake
Taupo, and the Whangaehu to join the sea in the south. There is, I
believe, no place in the world where two great rivers may be seen
rising at an altitude of over 7000 feet in the sides of a glacier-clad
mountain, and rolling for miles, side by side, down its rugged slopes,
the waters of the one of alabaster whiteness, and the waters of the
other as pure and as limpid as crystal, and each forming the dividing
waters of an area of country of nearly 100 miles in length.
It had taken us nine hours to reach the ice caves, and as it was
now late in the day we began to descend with all haste, in order,
if possible, to reach the point where we had left our horses before
nightfall.
As the sun went down the wind blew with a freezing blast, and as
we descended precipice after precipice, and ridge after ridge, and
the tints of evening crept gradually over the dismal sides of the
mountains, our course appeared long beyond measure. When we got near
to the immense mass of lava we had beheld in wonder in the morning,
the shades of night overtook us, and it was with great difficulty we
could pick our way over the rough boulders of the dark, weird gorge,
which now looked like Dante's Inferno with the fires put out. We again
struck the waters of the Whangaehu, and shining as they did like a
white streak in the darkness, we were enabled to follow them up until
we came to our camp.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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