ON A WESTERN ROAD

Dominion, Volume 11, Issue 131, 20 February 1918, Page 5

ON A WESTERN ROAD

THROUGH OLD OTAGO DIGGINGS

BY MOTOR TO THE LINDIS

(By Will Lawson.)

Tho road from Benmore Station to Omarama, on tho through route from Fairlie to Queenstown, is well made and metalled. But these qualities desort the through road at Omnrama,; they wheel away to the left, to Kurow. Between Kurow and Benmore, for many years there has *been a heavy traffic in stores and such things in one direction, in wool and other products in the opposite direction, for Benmore was a station of nearly half a miljfon acres. Like most of the Central Otago stations it has now been cut up, and the traffio on that road has increased, so ihat it needs to bo a good road.

In spite of the loss of stamina referred to. the road from Omarama to the LiirJis is not a bad road in summer, and even in tho winter, when the weather is dry. Those who use it will explain that it has no life in places; that is, it offers no spring or "give" to tho wheels. It is hard and lifeless. Still, the 50 horse-power service cars push on inst the same, heedless of the extra load which is put upon them at Omnrama. The mail car from Kurow to Benmore ■brings mails, passengers, and goods for ports of call right through to the Lindis. And while the passengers have lnnch at the hotel these extra trifles—there are no packages that are individually large—are assimilated into the contours of the car. That is where tho art of the driver is exercised. The boot, at the rear of the car, is soon filled and strapped up tightly to a smooth and orderly neatness. A couple of sacks, filled with lesser parcels, recline securely, partly on the front mudguards, partly against the car body. On the side step, or running-board, small boxes rest, well lashed on. And upon them again stand spare tyres, with their tops tied to tho car. The mailbags hang from a hook, handy to the driver's hand, and in a bag.near him are the wrapped newspapers that aro to bo thrown off at a score of places on the run. The majlbags are usually disposed of without the driver leaving liis seat. The car is deftly driven close up to a post outside the farmer's gate, on which is a honk for the bag to hang on till called for. It is a singular thing that much of tho loading of the car from Omarama wiis bread and butter. Some of this loading would travel 65 miles between •its making and its consumption. When one frequently has condensed milk on ilio journey, the deduction is thaD cows are rare animals in Central Otago. And tho deduction is correct. While the stock that is turned loose on the runs can find feed and shelter in the winter, the domestic cow would have to be housed and handled, and, excepting here and there, the new settlers do not bother with her. Later on, when shelter trees have grown and tho growing of winter feed is extended, there will not he so much butter and milk carried on tho service cars or freight lorries,

With the departure from Oraaraina the interest in these domestic affairs of tho west wane, overwhelmed in the wider, deeper interests of the road. AVe have a long and-a hard run ahead of us, the driver informs us, but he also promises to show us some wild deer in the Lindis Valley. For the present we follow tho Ahuriri. Across the river it is still Benmoro land that we see. The old station spread over ma'jy a mile of territory. Past a barking boundary dog, tho service car races. These open gates, with a lonely dog as warden to head stock back to their own runs, aro relics of semi-bar-bluffs and cliffs._ At one of these orations of chained dogs have worn the earth down to the depth of about eighteen inches, as they barked and ran in a circle at the limit allowed by the chain. There are still a few of them left in Central Otago, but they pit gradually going. The hills along the Ahuriri are high, on our left they slope easily. But across tho river there arc bluito and cliffs. At one o fthese bluffs there are some wonderful rock pinnacles, resembling the stalagmites of Waitomo Caves. Pink and grey, they stand out, several hundred feet high, and make an arresting sight for the eye ; in ' a landscape of rolling lulls and regular slopes. For miles we follow the Ahuriri, calling here, throwing off a paper there, pausing to unload a box or bag. The farm people who come to the car look with quiet interest at the. travellers through their country, as they discuss matters of the road with the driver. He can tell them news of a district ono hundred miles from end to end —not all the news, for it would take too loyg, but he satisfies their thirst for knowledge on specified matters, ere he starts his engine- up again and glides away. People who say they preferred the old coach as a moans of seeing country, because they did not rush' through at high speed, need not think that of tho service cars on-this road. There is no loitering, but there are frequent pauses, and the drivers will always halt at; the wish of a passenger, and pllow time to take photographs. The whole atmosphere is one of aloofness frem the world ; there are no trains to catch, nothing to worry about at all.

The way, at last, turns to the loft. Them is a road going straight on, the road to Ben Avon and Birclnvood lands. But our way turns off past green waving crops, with Dalraclincy Station on the left. We are running due v/rst, and the sun, beginning to sink from thcs high heaven, is hot in the valley of the Liudis. We have left the b'.eeze behind, and it will be a long, steady pull up to Lindis. Saddle, wbidi divides this vallcv from the Lindis Gorge, and is 3000 feet above the sea. The road is sometimes a road and sometimes a track, but we, make gf-oA time, with the driver kpeping an e.ve out for deer. Our untrained eyes scon weary of searching the hills, but bis do not. But we found no deer in that vallov—only a puncture. It camo stealthily, without any shattering bans.

"Is the front tyro on your side flat?" the driver asked. Reluctantly wo said it was.

"I thought so, by the way she wouldn't steer. As if it wasn't hot enough." So we stopped, and fount! there was a breexe following us lazily up the valley, too lazy to pursue us. "When we halted it fanned our hot faces, and made the driver's task less arduous, Mian he expected. II tool; him exactly twenty minutes t<rjack up the ear. get the tyre off, and p«it a new tube in. Then he refilled tile radiator, whoso wiiter was nearly boiling. Another long louk round for deer, and away we went again, on tho steady slog to Lindis Saddle, over n, road that had no kick in it. But the sunshine bad, and tho skies were blue, and the hills golden, and there were always deer —to bo looked for. Mere and shore wo paused and delivered mails and freight at places where no houses or huts were visible. Men with pack-horses were waiting patiently at tho roadside, for Us.

"What went wrong?" one oF them nskrri. -'Heard you long ago." They don't miss much, these hack country men. Ho was sorry about tlie puncture and about our not having seen any deer.

"Saw a herd early this morning, ;i!.ruit two miles up. Keep your eyes skinned and you night see them."

The last couple of miles to tho crest of Lindis Saddle is stiff pulling on tha low gear. It is only an earth road here. In wet weather the cars waltz nnd mazurka on tho slippery

surface. But tho struggle to the top is more limit justified by tho wonderful view wo have when we stop and look back. Such a panorama of smooth hills and twisting gullies. It looks as though, at some time long past, the whole of the country was poured out of a vast cauldron, and flowed in those shapes nnd shadows below us. and solidified ere the mass could settle down to a level again. The sun in the west helped to make our view of Lindis Valley, from Lintlis Saddle, one to be carried away in our hearts and minds, and remembered throughout our iivt-s. And it was all the morn memorable by the fact that as we turned I away the car dipped into the Lindis I Gorge, as wild and unehsrirabie-look-I ing "a place as one could picture I Grand and picturesque, without a ! doubt, and .filled with historic signs of human activities. But it took a little time. bl\ the same, to refocua our eyes after the quiet beauty cf the valley below the saddle. The Lindis 1 In roars gone by, what a meaning the words lwd. They meant gold and swarming industry. Miners everywhere, lining Nature's forces to their own ends, her stnnps in build their houses. They shiftol W r"-" from its bed and ransacked that hod for polcl. To-day, nroid the wild hills, the ruins of the old stone, huts are semi, and the water-races along the hillsides, that hroueht the water for miles, and the heaps of stones and half-filled holes where eager miners dug for the yellow metal. There -ire a few farms in the lower nart of Lindis Gome. Thero is green bush on the yellow hills in places—a few places—but it gives a. softening effect. And Nature has been giving an exhibition of her skill nt sluicing". On the left-hand side of (he road she arranged a cloudburst, at tlio top of a bare crest. Judging by armen ranees it was a success. The hillside was pretty well torn awav, and the road buried.' For quite a distance the debris of rorks and sand lay _ in the channels made by the pouring water. I Beyond the Blue Slin, as Nature s I masterpiece is called', the road winds prettily along the. Lindis Eiyer, leading on to. Morven Hills Station. Here i the hands of the early settlers have ! blessed tho land for all time. For they planted trees—English trees—which can stand the .rigours of Central Otago I winters. Poplars and willows are here, j shading pleasant fords. When the car ■ has passed this' beauty spot and the valley widens out in terraces we seo a dozen dper on a ridge close at handreally wild deer. Yet they stand and watch the car as calmly as deer Jii a zoo. The' hills tower above tho low ridge on wKich they stand, and it is bard to distinguish them against the earthy colour that forms a background. But the driver saw them and stopped the car. Even so they still do not move, not till a passenger steps out to try and get a photograph of them. Tlien a stag sounds a warning, and the queer cough of a hind tells that all are alert. And they trot nway along the ridges and up, up, up, towards the heights they love. For the first time we ford the deep stream of the Lindis at a narrow gorcto where there is a. fine view to be bad, looking back. There is a bndsro for short cars, hut ours is not short, so we rock into the stream in a swirl of foam and mill out easily on to n road which winds with the river between steer, hills. Three times we ford the Lindis; and we notice in the stream what look like rock islands in a botanical gardens lake. Healthy willows grow on these islands, which were made l>y the diggers, not with an eye to bbanty. but as part of the nrocess of "wing-dammina;" the Lir.dis. First one side and then the other sido of the river was dammed dry—both ad.iectivelv and verbally—and when the dry bed had been sifted over for gold the river was put back into ; t, where it sings and croons to the willows to this day. Water-races and pfosnect holes are still very much in evidence, but where are the men who made them? And who used to make the Lindis Hotel, a few miles further on.- a lively spot in a. lonely land? We stay at the Lindis Hotel for the night. It is the half-way house. It is a quaint old place, with a new bedroom section, and the traveller sleeps soundly, for there is no sound at all save the songs of the winds and the river.