Tales Told by an Early Pioneer

Lake County Mail, Issue 5, 25 June 1947, Page 8

Tales Told by an Early Pioneer

It has been my privilege to watch the first awakening of the world on sea and on lofty mountains, on lake and vast boundless plains. I have gazed on the cold white tops of the Alps as they blushed acknowledgment of the sun’s first kiss, and standing high up on St. Mark’s at Venice, I have seen the sun rise from the bosom of the Adriatic and spread over the shipping and cupolas of the Queen of the Sea, a sheet of burnished gold: but, lovely as all these were, they failed to put me into such a rhapsody of admiration for our beautiful world as did that grand and glittering scene which I saw for the first time from the Elbow peak of Lake Wakatipu. Even George, after having, lighted his pipe and started it to draw properly, admitted he had never seen anything finer, and Duncan MacAusland was induced to acknowledge that even Loch Lomond and the Trossaehs, with all their beauty, was not a patch.on this.”

HoAvever, avc had not much time at out disposal for the admiration of this incomparable vieAA’, as avc had a long day s journey before ns, and tired sheep to drive, eo, rousing the sheep from their slumbers, avc prepared to start.

The plan which we had adopted in driving over this rough untrodden country was perhaps unique and not. Cutting off a small mob of about 50 from the main flock of sheep, I took these on ahead, and by constant dogging and driving I forced them through the long rank ferns and scrub which covered the ranges, thus making a fairly good road for the other sheep to follow 7 . Of course this was very hard w T ork for the advance mob, and soon tired them out, whereupon a fresh lot was cut off and brought to the front and the jaded ones dropped' back and were allowed to come on with the main body, and so this process went ®n the whole day.

We camped that night on the bank of the lake, at the mouth of a fine stream, Avhich we called Simpson s Creek, after George, a name by which it is still known, although amongst the digging community it is perhaps known as the “ twenty-five mile rush.” Bob had put in with the boat there, and we were glad indeed when we found him waiting for us, with a roaring fire, a “billy” full of tea, and a frying pan full of spluttering chops..

In spite of hunger and fatigue, however, we could not help admiring the lovely view of the lake. The setting sun was lighting up the snow-clad tops of the highest hills, whilst the lower parts were shrouded in darkness, which was every moment becoming more intense. The dark pyramid-shaped hill, in the centre of the plain through which the rivers Rees and Dart flowed, was to me the most fascinating object of the whole scene, and to commemorate my admiration for it my companions named it Mount Alfred, after mo, which name it is known by to this day.

We would fain have rested the sheep for a day at Simpson’s Creek, but the country was so rough that we were afraid to allow the sheep to spread out in order to feed, lest we should miss any of them, and the herbage was so indifferent that we preferred pushing on with them, tired and hungry as they were, hoping to reach better grassed country before the night. This we succeeded in doing before night, the country over which we travelled this day being tolerably open and easily driven over, it having been burned the previous year by Mr Rees and Mr Von Tunzelmann when they were there, and, besides that; the hills spread out more, and were not so precipitous as those along which we had come the previous dav.

As our instructions were to pro right to the top of the lake before settling down we pushed on. and just at fall, rame on a to'erahly large stream, on the other side of which stretched a wnll-"’-assed flat, on to wlrch w« drove bhe sheep, and left them to their own derices. Here we camped for the night,

on the bank of the rivulet, now so famous, but at that time unknown to the digger, and which I named the Buckleburn, after a place which my father owned in Aberdeenshire.

Old Bob had kept abreast of us all day with the boat, and came to shore as soon as we cooed to him, when we told him we intended to camp there.

The following day. however, we decided on moving our camp further up the lake, as we thought a better sight for building a hut was on the spit opposite the mouth of the Rees River, where a large lagoon opened off the lake, and here we proceeded to build the first establishment that was built at the head of Lake Wakatipu. It Avas 12ft long by 10ft Avide, built of sods cut on the spot, thatched Avith grass, and with chimney (save the mark) at one gable, which for about 4ft high was made of sods, and finished off with a graceful erection of sticks and old flour bags. Tavo bunks, one on each side of the fireplace, a tin-lined box to keep our food fro mthe rats, and a couple of logs for stools, constituted the entire furnishing of the establishment, and. with a billy” a camp oven, a few tin plates and pannikins Avherewith to partake of our food, George and I were left Avith a month’s rations of flour, tea, and sugar, and the boat containing Bob and MacAusland sailed aAvay and left us.

During the time that George and I had remained on the Buckleburn Station, as the run on which we were located had been named by us, the life we led was most monotonous and uninteresting.

We had little trouble with the flock of sheep, as these were well contented with the good feed on the flats behind the hut, and on the ridges of the back thereof, which were covered with aniseed and other agreeable plants to their taste. Only on very few occasions did they attempt to trespass on the high hill at the head of the Buckleburn, and which from the peculiarly rounded shape of its summit we named “ The Port.” Certainly they were not afforded many opportunities for straying, as we took it by turns to tend the flock and do the cooking, and thus the one whose duty it was to act as shepherd was always away at day-break to see the mob, and to turn them back if they were inclined to wander beyond the prescribed boundaries.

Our cooking was not an arduous task, as we had not the wherewithal to branch out in any fanciful dishes, but had to content ourselves with the humbler fare peculiar to the new settler, viz. mutton, tea, and bread, served up three times a day, with an occasional treat in the shape of some dripping which we spread on our bread and, under the name of “ station butter ” pretended to enjoy.

Occasionally we went together on a short excursion up the banks of the Rees River, or along the ranges towards Earnslaw, at the foot of which in the centre of a rich alluvial flat, glittered Diamond Lake, with the dark shadows of the black birch trees on the side of Mt. Alfred reflected in its pure transparent waters. Mr Rees, who was the first to see this lovely little lake, named it well, for when looking at it from the top of some neighbouring height, as it sparkles in the midst of the greenest of surroundings, it looks like a diamond set in emeralds. On these excursions we found traces of Maoris in the shape of stake nets, baskets for catching eels, spears, waddies, ashes, and other debris betokening a somewhat recent camp, but we never rev.’ any sign of them in the flesh,

although the Dunedin papers of the day warned people against settling in

Published by R. C. Wilson, 25 Pa‘h Street, Duned’n. and P’i" f ed b” Wilson RaMi.T Ltd . at their ResdaWred Printing Works, 25 Pa ! h Street, Dunedin

Wednesday, June 25, 1947.

the far interior in an unprotected state, because it was believed that a tribe of Maoris that had levanted from 'near Waikouaiti had taken up their residence at the top of the Wakatipu lake.

Fortunately the climate was good, otherwise we would have felt more keenly how primitive and disagreeable the state of our existence was. The hut we lived in, having been built of sods, never during our stay in it became really dry, and every morning a grey mist which had been drawn out of the damp walls during the night lay on our blankets. Our chimney, being made of old sacks, was in the habit of catching fire periodically, but this gave us a certain amount of amusement,- for I have had a hearty fit of laughter when from the top of the range behind, I have seen a cloud of smoke rise from the hut, and with the assistance of binocular glasses have distinguished George standing on top of the hut with a bucket of water in his hands, endeavouring to put a stop to the conflagration; and it required no vivid imagination to guess the style and strength of the remarks with which lie Avas probably denouncing the builders (himself included), the manufacturers of the flour bags, the country in general, and his own lot in particular.

But undoubtedly the greatest drawback to the pleasure of our existence whilst living at the north end of the lake was the presence of legions of rats, which simply swarmed both inside and outside of our hut.

We trenched up ground for a garden and planted potatoes, but the rats dug them up and ate them. The poles of the gallows which hung *our mutton were surrounded with spear grass, with the points directed downwards, to prevent them from climbing, but even this failed, and a broad sheet of tin nailed round each post was the only means we could adopt which proved successful.

The flour, the sugar, and other eatables we were obliged to keep inside our clothes chests, but even that was not sufficient to secure , their safety, for the destructive brutes frequently gnawed holes through the boxes’ sides, and helped themselves to our stores. The fat in the slush lamp was nightly eaten, the leather of our boots damaged, and even plugs of tobacco were carried oft' from under George’s pillow. On one occasion they gnawed through the rope from which was suspended a shelf laden with books over my bunk, and in the dead of night the whole pile of literature was shot down on my devoted head, causing me to jump from my bed shouting that the roof had fallen in. They swarmed over us at night, and even strove to rob us of our scalps as we several times were aroused by them pulling at our hair.

It was a frequent amusement of ours to lie awake for a while, and by the light of the lire to try who could kill most of them. As the creatures crawled up the blankets on top of us, we would watch our opportunity and, jumping suddenly up, catch them between the folds of the blankets, give them a squeeze, and throw them out of bed to the dogs, and these quickly finished them. We have killed dozens this way, but it seemed to make no difference to the number of our

enemies. Caesar, my collie dog, was a splendid ratter, but he in time got satisfied with slaughter and required to be goaded on to destroy them. I may mention, as an example of sagacity in a collie, that Caesar was no ratter when we first settled at Buckleburn, but one day, having butchered a sheep, the head was given to Caesar, who, not being hungry, carried it some distance from the hut, burrowed a hole in the ground, and planted it should he want food. Next day we saw him go to the place where he had buried the sheep’s head, but alas, it was gone, and, whether he had smelt the traces of rats who diad lifted his plant or not, we could not say, but from that time he became, like a celebrated patent medicine which is widely advertised at the present time, “ rough on rats.”

(To be continued)