AN UP-COUNTED JOURNEY.

Evening Star, Issue 3055, 3 December 1872, Page 3

AN UP-COUNTED JOURNEY.

Q n the < X forget what date, but that does not matter ; readers, if there are any, can fill that in for themselves : it was one day about a month ago, a friend and 1 set oiit on a tour through a portion c-f the Province. Some people say it is the most interesting portion. I dare say it is ; buj; as I never saw any other part of it, I am obliged to accept their dictum, with the reservation, that if in time to come I find some nook or corner that 1 like better, I shall most likely give it a better character. I fancy my friend thought it mo>-o interesting than I did, for he had a great number of customers to sec, who seemed very glad to see him ; while I had nothing to do but to call on a very few strangers, who never saw me before, and very likely would never see me again. So I had a good deal of time to spare, while he was everlastingly busy. I believe I ought to have made very bulky notes of what I saw ; but I did not. I am not a good hand at writing about scenery and the picturesque, from notes made at the time. If it be worth describing, it comes back to my memory like a picture, and I had rather not ho indebted to crabbed pot-hooks for what I want to tell. A scene is not worth describing that does not leave its imprint on the imagination. We left Dunedin about three o’clock one afternoon instead of twelve at noon, as appointed. My busy friend had not had time to eat or drink since eight in the morning ; and as we intended reaching Palmerston that night, he had no time to lose in taking in stores. On the other hand, I could not think of dragging him away without some prospect of allaying what poets are pleased to term “Nature’s cravings’’; and precisely similar objections presented themselves to feeding at a roadside inn as to stopping for that purpose in Dunedin. Our genius was equal to the occasion. AVe added to our luggage a lump of cheese, a few slices of bread, a bottle of Tennant s best, and we borrowed a glass—where it went to afterwards Heaven knows, for I don’t, but it never again readied th e owner. For decency’s sake we waited until we had paid that intolerable toll on the Blueskin road, and when we thought nobody saw us, we ate up the cheese, skilfully knocked the neck off the bottle, drank the ale, and my friend very coolly set to, to satisfy the remainder of nature’s cravings, by tilling his cutty pipe and taking a leisurely smoke, while the horses pulled right willingly up that long, dreary, dangerous, winding moantain, leading up to the Junction. I never leave Dunedin in any direction, but I wonder who contrived these roads. Very naturally, one blames the ( hief Surveyor, hut very likely he had nothing to do with them, excepting to follow a bad example. People tell ns that the old Homans used to form their roads right up to the tops of mountains, so that they might have the opportunity of seeing an enemy approaching. Approaching enemy must have been vet-.-much obliged to them, as it equally enabled him to see the Bomans; and when it was necessary to cut and run, those l-mg steep declines gave them a splendid start for a stampede. But one wonders why Britons who never shall he slaves, have slavishly followed those old Homan customs in making their roads, in these days of breech-loading rifles, when an cm my, or a friend, on the top of a hill is a better mark to hit than a bull’s-eye on a target at a thousand yards’ range. But where"is the enemy at the bottom of the hill to be seen from the top ; or at the top of the hill to be seen from the bottom? The great enemy we in these days have to deal with is the mountains themselves. Instead of dodging round their bases, we are compelled to climb their heights, at a great sacrilice of patience, and great wear and tear of horse flesh and buggy harness; and then, after tugging and straining and whipping and shouting (my friend has a splendid way of shoving horses along by a shout) we have to run the risk of descending, possibly after having broken a strap or a bolt, and then farewell! A little tickling of the horses by the broken gear, and off they bolt, taking you and the buggy, let us hope, safely to the bottom. Mr Chief Surveyor, let me tell you, there is many a death lies at your door, or somebody else’s—say the Provincial Secretary for Public Works—for sanctioning such a remnant of Roman civilisation. Recollect, when you allow roads to be made in future, the old Romans Lad no buggies on springs, nor American waggons drawn by eight or nine horses, carrying live or six tons. They made their roads to suit circumstances, but you have made yours in defiance of circumstances. They made their roads to answer their purposes, and they did so ; you have made ours, apparently, for no other purpose than to add to the labor and danger of travelling on them, and to increase the cost of goods transmitted over them. Mr Chief Surveyor and Mr Provincial Secretary for Public Works, you have succeeded admirably ; you ought to have flourished in the time of the Romans, for you are anachronisms. Wo want cheap travelling-labor-saving roads ; we don’t want to lift onr loads and bodies as well as draw them along. Now it is no use in saying you are not responsible for those roads as they were made before your time, because there arc others as bad and infinitely worse formed, or forming. I do not know that I hove much to say about our day’s journey. We went along very steadily both up and down hill, for the horses were high mettled and in splendid condition, and having one of those admirable modern institutions, a brake, to our buggy we were enabled to save their forelegs by easing the weight of the carriage while descending ; so they trotted away apparently as well pleased with each other’s company as I and my friend were with oursdves. In this happy mood, after a short sojourn in the way of business at Blueskin, we reached Waikouaiti in time for a tea-dinner at the Fleece. AVe dare say a geologist would find much to interest between Dunedin and Waikouaiti. There is plenty of variety in the rocks, and no lack of opportunity of ascertaining their superposition. The scenery is in many places picturesque, and the alternation of cultured with pasture land, of bush and bare hills, of sea peeps and inland prospects, will well repay a tourist, who can make up his mind to take a knapsack on his back, and travelling on foot, diverge to the light or left, as circumstances draw him fiom the dusty road. AVe should like to wander through those curious gullies, examining each nook and cranny, plucking here and tfyere jj, fern or native fjower' qr watching thp tjny lizards with their brignt eyes, as they wriggle swiftly from one jargo boulder to another —wo suppose for business purposes. Many a revelation of earth’s past history lies wrapped up in those rounded hills, waiting for science to read it. It is too far for a Saturday afternoon’s exploration by the Field Naturalist’s Club, hut to one whose mind can grasp the features of interest, there must be muck to please. I say so, because I do not know ; just as many mysteries look very inviting that when uura-

veiled lose their charm. But T should not think this would be the case with a man of science there. To my and me the pleasure was denied. Our object was businegsi__that inexorable slave-driver ; and rocks and woods, and shady nooks, had to give place in our esteem to the hard, dry, dusty road, that pleased us the hotter the smoother it was. I jvdl not attempt to describe our journey fr.Mii AVaikouaiti to Palmerston, for I did not even see the horses, so dark was the night, and snm-what dismal. Besides, I was inducted into a new office. Not haying intended to travel by night, no provision had been made for carriage lamps,_ We borrowed one at AVaikouaiti that obstinately refused to burn. AVe examined it again .and again—all seemed quite right—but something was wrong. When the carriage was not in motion, the light was clear and brilliant ; as soon as we began to move, out it went. Now, this was most perplexing. Like the dark and dismal nights that bothered the captain of the ship that Paul was wrecked in, there were no stars; the road is good if one can only keep on it; but there are abrupt dips on each side into which an inch too far to the right oy left might plunge a traveller. Like Christian’s path, it is straight and narrow, with occasional pitfalls on each side. AVe both evinced the patience of Christian; we did not curse the candle—at ieast in words—l know what I thought, but I do not know what my friend had in his mind on the subject. At last I took the matter into my own hands, and affer a variety of experiments, disco-v.-red that if the candle were only humored a little bit, it would do its duty. It was a blowy, gusty night, the wind was in our teeth ; and the lamp required to be retained in a particular position; so 1 became a link-boy, and take credit to myself that I showed my friend the rooks ami pitfalls on my side of the road, which enabled him to steer a direct course for Gilljgan’s hotel, whore we arrived safely, took in solids and liquids of excellent quality and passed the night, 1 dare say, very satisfactorily ; for I never woke until early the next morning, when “ Boots” roused me to continue the journey. (To he continued. )