We Started, As I Said, From The Bottom Of This Valley On A
Clear Frosty Morning - So Frosty That The Tea-Leaves In Our Pannikins
Were Frozen, And Our Outer Blanket Crisped With Frozen Dew.
We went up
a little gorge, as narrow as a street in Genoa, with huge black and
dripping precipices overhanging it, so as almost to shut out the light
of heaven.
I never saw so curious a place in my life. It soon opened
out, and we followed up the little stream which flowed through it. This
was no easy work. The scrub was very dense, and the rocks huge. The
spaniard "piked us intil the bane," and I assure you that we were hard
set to make any headway at all. At last we came to a waterfall, the
only one worthy of the name that I have yet seen. This "stuck us up,"
as they say here concerning any difficulty. We managed, however, to
"slew" it, as they, no less elegantly, say concerning the surmounting of
an obstacle. After five hours of most toilsome climbing, we found the
vegetation become scanty, and soon got on to the loose shingle which was
near the top of the range.
In seven hours from the time we started, we were on the top. Hence we
had hoped to discover some entirely new country, but were disappointed,
for we only saw the Mackenzie Plains lying stretched out for miles away
to the southward. These plains are so called after a notorious
shepherd, who discovered them some few years since. Keeping his
knowledge to himself, he used to steal his master's sheep and drive them
quietly into his unsuspected hiding-place. This he did so cleverly that
he was not detected until he had stolen many hundred. Much obscurity
hangs over his proceedings: it is supposed that he made one successful
trip down to Otago, through this country, and sold a good many of the
sheep he had stolen. He is a man of great physical strength, and can be
no common character; many stories are told about him, and his fame will
be lasting. He was taken and escaped more than once, and finally was
pardoned by the Governor, on condition of his leaving New Zealand. It
was rather a strange proceeding, and I doubt how fair to the country
which he may have chosen to honour with his presence, for I should
suppose there is hardly a more daring and dangerous rascal going.
However, his boldness and skill had won him sympathy and admiration, so
that I believe the pardon was rather a popular act than otherwise. To
return. There we lay on the shingle-bed, at the top of the range, in
the broiling noonday; for even at that altitude it was very hot, and
there was no cloud in the sky and very little breeze. I saw that if we
wanted a complete view we must climb to the top of a peak which, though
only a few hundred feet higher than where we were lying, nevertheless
hid a great deal from us. I accordingly began the ascent, having
arranged with my companion that if there was country to be seen he
should be called, if not, he should be allowed to take it easy. Well, I
saw snowy peak after snowy peak come in view as the summit in front of
me narrowed, but no mountains were visible higher or grander than what I
had already seen. Suddenly, as my eyes got on a level with the top, so
that I could see over, I was struck almost breathless by the wonderful
mountain that burst on my sight. The effect was startling. It rose
towering in a massy parallelogram, disclosed from top to bottom in the
cloudless sky, far above all the others. It was exactly opposite to me,
and about the nearest in the whole range. So you may imagine that it
was indeed a splendid spectacle. It has been calculated by the
Admiralty people at 13,200 feet, but Mr. Haast, a gentleman of high
scientific attainments in the employ of Government as geological
surveyor, says that it is considerably higher. For my part, I can well
believe it. Mont Blanc himself is not so grand in shape, and does not
look so imposing. Indeed, I am not sure that Mount Cook is not the
finest in outline of all the snowy mountains that I have ever seen. It
is not visible from many places on the eastern side of the island, and
the front ranges are so lofty that they hide it. It can be seen from
the top of Banks Peninsula, and for a few hundred yards somewhere near
Timaru, and over a good deal of the Mackenzie country, but nowhere else
on the eastern side of this settlement, unless from a great height. It
is, however, well worth any amount of climbing to see. No one can
mistake it. If a person says he THINKS he has seen Mount Cook, you may
be quite sure that he has not seen it. The moment it comes into sight
the exclamation is, "That is Mount Cook!" - not "That MUST be Mount
Cook!" There is no possibility of mistake. There is a glorious field
for the members of the Alpine Club here. Mount Cook awaits them, and he
who first scales it will be crowned with undying laurels: for my part,
though it is hazardous to say this of any mountain, I do not think that
any human being will ever reach its top.
I am forgetting myself into admiring a mountain which is of no use for
sheep. This is wrong. A mountain here is only beautiful if it has good
grass on it. Scenery is not scenery - it is " country," subaudita voce
"sheep." If it is good for sheep, it is beautiful, magnificent, and all
the rest of it; if not, it is not worth looking at. I am cultivating
this tone of mind with considerable success, but you must pardon me for
an occasional outbreak of the old Adam.
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