Way-Back Wanderings.

Manawatu Herald, Volume XXVII, Issue 3550, 22 July 1905, Page 3

Way-Back Wanderings.

LOST ON a RUN IN THE MANAWATU. A NIGHT OF TRIAL, Mr Walter Barber’s run is situated on the bank of the Manawatu river, near Himatangi, in the neighbourhood of Foxton. Oneofth® darkest nights of this winter was the last night of May. The rain poured steadily down, It was not a time for man or beast to be out; and to be lost on Barber’s run at such a time was a serious matter. The story told here is of such a time of darkness and Stumbling and weary plunging on, It iu an experience that many ft man has had in the swampy flaVrailds of the lower Manawatu ; arid ig as typical ot such trying expediences that we print Mr Moran’s Straight - forward, graphic narrati v e .

l.left Hickson and Reeve's “ Kiwi ” ■flaxmill on Wednesday, the last day in May, at about five o’clock, the fain coining down in torrents. 1 Was one of the last to be ferried over the Manawatu trom the mill. Walked about three miles to find my horse. When I had him saddled and ready for a start it was pitch dark,—the darkest might on record. Grave Kitchener his ’head and trusted him to take me “ Home, Sweet Home,” to Foxton. Had not gone many miles, however, before we were hopelessly lost. Kept the old neddy going until lie ran into a barb-wire fence and came down cropper number one. Pulled myself together and mounted my steed and made another start, the rain corning down harder than ever. The next thing I knew I was in the famous C. G.T.H. Bog. The more the horse plunged the deeper we got into it. I tried to get out of the saddle i but the next plunge he made shot me over his head. The next plunge, and he was on top of me, his knees striking me on the back the head ; and that is the Hast i remember for about twenty itniipltes. The next thing I remember •ivtis Kitchener with his two front legs !ln a small flax-bush that happened to iae there, and jhis hind-quarters and body in the bog. He looked for a I:he world like a kangaroo sitting up. liwas in the bog; but I managed to get out somehow, niy head ana the back of my neck being very soie , by the way they are still sore. My next task was to try and find the track,-no easy matter, I can tell you For every two steps forward I would come down either on. my head oi nu the broad of my back. I t " ed , t ?^ u J the sand cutting,—the only thing I could think of that night to put me on the right track. While looking for it I found it by falling into it,—a drop of rib out twenty-five _ teet. . Thls T a £° l 's settled me for the time being. I must have lain there for halfan-hoiir before I came round again. I tr ‘ ed to ’ ray teet again ; but I could n°tja p for some time, being so cold and stiff ray clothing being soaking wet. 1 managed to get going Apou at las . but did not get very far ® * finto a big drain, about up to my chin in water. I began to think I was done Sis time for sure, the bank being .so steep that I could not get out, having my top coat on and all my pockets hi 1 of water. I tried again and again to reach the top hut slipped back again into the drain. At last I began to struggle and flounder about like a dym? whale and managed to get into shallow water, and at last got.safe: on shore again. Now, sir, you will to understand. Picture me when ns in that plight I sat i ne . B S Oiv weary frozen bones in the • < Sir wilderness. How long I stopped “Su may guess. My next move was Ü B et on to some high country to see if I could see a light that might lead me to some happier spot in the way of change. I was rewarded by seeing oSe about two miles away and so made straight for it, you bet, some times up to my knees in mu i .-some tiimes up to my middle m Sometimes 1 would trip mm « down wollop but up and at it a b am 1 was just beginning to think I iva. tight and was thinking ot Kitchenei that is, my gallant steed-whom I had left in the bog, when over I bowled Igain into another drain, this time half full of mud with water up to the neck. O dear, O dear shall I evu gißt out of it, I wondered. I could not *et out where I went in ; so I had to ; a de along the drain to where the bink was not so steep. At last I „ol out again. I was very queer for a wble. Things were only middling, i can tell you. I had not seen . light for an hour now and did not expect to see it again that night. I mule another start anyhow, not knowing whither I was going and no caring much. I was about full up o if When I happened to see the light again it did not seem to be any nearer than whpr. I first saw it. My spirits rose a little, however ; and I struggled onward till I van into a barb-wire fence which brought me to a sudden stop. I followed the fence hoping it would bring me to some road. Tins time my luck was in ; for it brought me to a gate near Marden’s mi l and on to an old flax-dray road. It was still raining hard; but I managed to stick to the road, knowing 1 was still on it by the big ruts I kept blundering mto. As I drew nearer to the light I made it out to be Mr L. Procter s. While forging onward, looking at that welcome flicker, I stumbled and fell, my ribs coming into contact with the stump of a cabbage tree, Knocking the wind out ot me lor the next ten minutes. However, I pulled m\se t together for the final attempt to teacn that guiding light, which I leached without much more trouble excepting the running into a barb-wire fence where I came a cropper and was hung up for the last time, thank God. I knocked at the door. Mr L. Proctor bad retired for the night ; but he came to the door to see who could be the caller at that unusual hour. When he opened the door he could not tell me from a mudlark, my face and clothing being covered with mud. “ Who is there ? ” Mr Proctor asked. “ Moran,” Iftplied when I could find my speech, is not you, Joe Moran, is it ?

Goodness me, where have you been in all this rain,” I answered him, and told him—’•Jolly time I have had all to myself.” Mrs Proctor got up and Came, to the rescue with a change of city clothes, while Mr Proctor rousted the fire up; and* when everything was ready, wo had a good supper and went to hc.'S for (he night,—or, rather, for the morning. In the morning, after breakfast, Mr Proctor and I set out on horseback to dig poor old Kitchener out of the bog, if he had not gone out of sight altogether, Mr Proctor telling me that if he came out by the same direction as he went in he might have a chance ; but if he tried to go through the hog he would he out of sight before we Could reach him. But before we reached the place we saw my bold Kitchener feeding quietly on a sand ridge. Me had struggled out in the night and stood there with the saddle under his belly and the space between filled with bog. As told by mvsc-lf. J. MORAN, Foxton.