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
Another frequent feature we noticed was that where the great trees
had apparently been lying for some time, the seeds of other trees had
fallen upon them, and, germinating into life, had sent their roots
down into the very heart of these decaying vegetable monsters. In this
way it was no uncommon sight to see three or four different species of
large trees living and flourishing upon the dead trunks of these forest
giants.
We crossed the Mangatotara River twice, and after passing through a
very rough and broken portion of the great wilderness, we fell in with
another river, called the Mangatuku, and which we had to cross three
times in its winding course. Both of these streams appeared to drain
a large area of country, and so dense was the vegetation along their
banks that it was only here and there that a ray of sunlight shot
through the thick canopy of green upon them.
During this portion of our journey we came across a complete network
of tracks made by herds of wild cattle, and which led us about to all
points of the compass, until we found it impossible to make out in what
direction we should shape our course. We climbed a tree on the summit
of a high ridge, but we could see nothing but the snowy summit of
Ruapehu in the distance, while all around us, in every direction, was
an apparently endless expanse of forest. From this point the country
began to fall rapidly, and it was evident that we were descending into
the valley of the Whanganui. After nine hours of incessant travelling,
from the time we left our camp in the morning, we had crossed no less
than thirty boggy creeks, besides other streams, and now that dusk had
overtaken us, we found it impossible to proceed any further. We were
now in the midst of a swampy portion of the forest, which seemed like
a veritable "Slough of Despond," and which, judging from the way the
ground had been rooted up in every direction, appeared to be a kind
of wild-pig elysium. Throughout the whole distance we had come, the
country had been grubbed up by these animals, many of which we saw of
great size, and apparently of true wild-boar ferocity.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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