Through South Westland : A journey to the Haast and Mount Aspiring New Zealand . into the bush for eight dismalmiles. The track, winding ever upwards throughdripping trees that towered black above ourheads, seemed as if it would go on thus for beyond range the forest-clad hills stretchedaway interminably. All seemed impenetrable—monotonous—divided by tumbling torrents indeep bottoms—heard but unseen. It was weirdenough riding through the white wrappings ofthe mist, in an atmosphere heated like a fernerjat Kew ; but when the wan daylight died, and thenarrow track grew inky black, and
Through South Westland : A journey to the Haast and Mount Aspiring New Zealand . into the bush for eight dismalmiles. The track, winding ever upwards throughdripping trees that towered black above ourheads, seemed as if it would go on thus for beyond range the forest-clad hills stretchedaway interminably. All seemed impenetrable—monotonous—divided by tumbling torrents indeep bottoms—heard but unseen. It was weirdenough riding through the white wrappings ofthe mist, in an atmosphere heated like a fernerjat Kew ; but when the wan daylight died, and thenarrow track grew inky black, and we had to trustthe instinct of the horses to find it, then indeedit became awesome. And as we wandered on,no hut or any land-mark was there. I felt wemight be lost, and wander thus for ever in thesedim shades. Anxiously we questioned, could we possiblyhave passed the hut ? But no, our directionswere plain enough: to look for a ford abovewhere a suspension-bridge for foot-passengerswas thrown across the ravine. I began to wishwe had stayed at the Mahitahi, and THE TRACK, WINDING EVER UPWARDSTHROIGH DRIPPING TREES. THE BLUE RIVER HUT. 77 could we and the horses go on thus till these cheerful reflections pressed themselvesupon me, we suddenly came to a break in thetrees, and some wires across the skj arrested ourattention. Surely it was the suspension bridge—the ford could only be a little further on—if wecould but find it. The Blue River was tumblingin a fine cascade below the bridge (we guessedfrom the sound), and the horses found the fordand went in quite willingly. Xow, it is not everynight one rides into a strange river m the dark,quite ignorant as to where to get out, and notknowing if ones horse is going to swim ; so thatit was a relief to me when we were safely trees had been felled on a little rise abovethe landing-place, and we could just make out asquare outline with another beyond—the hut andstable. I have no doubt on a fine
Size: 1310px × 1907px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookidthroughsouth, bookyear1900
