A MID-SUMMEA OUTING FROM NELSON.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XLIII, Issue XLIII, 28 January 1909, Page 2

A MID-SUMMEA OUTING FROM NELSON.

A DRIVE TO CARLUKE AND MACK,

THE RAIN AND THE FLOODED RLVER.

(Written for th« "Evening Mail.") On Saturday last, about 10 a.m., in a light trap drawn by a trustworthy mare, we left Nelson in a drizzling rain for Carluke. Entering the Happy Valley the drizzle took mow definite shape and heavy rams accompanied us up the lone weary Wangamoa and down again, bo that by tfalf-past two, when we reached fho Halfway House, a distance of 24 miles, notwithstanding waterproof poocho and waterproof coach apron, overcoat, and umbrella, we were drenched fo the skirt. Mr Frank Bird, of the "Halfway," quickly got our trap untied cover and the horse's nose in the feed bos, and with equal promptitude Mrs Bjrd hid A libt substantial nieal ori the table, aria, d roaring fl'te iii tlie sitting room.' In tjie space of two hours our .nether' garirients; inner and outer, were dry, and at halfpast five we were again in the pelting rain with repeated cautions from- ,ont host and hostess not to take the- horse and trap over the Eai into Carluke.. We found- our journey up the Rai Saddle impeded by long stretches of new metal broken down to sizes varying from ostrich eggs to pumpkins, but with the angularity of cinders and the hardness of sharp-edged tools, and termed by the local inhabitants "the rocks." At 7.30 we reached the "ford" of the Rai, now /no longer fordable, but a wide swollen river charged with driftwood and logs which swept past us like steamboats. Three hours before our arrival a plucky woman had driven over the ford, the water rising to the horss's neck, but now a giraffe's neck would have been too short. It was now growing dark, and we drove on to Robertson's Mill, where through the kindness of a resident we planted our trap in a cosy shed, and turned the mare into a safe paddock. Guided by a friendly youth through the bush for half-a-mile or more, we reached a narrow shaky suspension bridge over the rushing river, and in two minutes were in Carluke, now hidden in the darkness. The ex-manager of the Mill, Mr Leonard, and his wife, greeted ns with looks and words of surprise, whilst they busied themselves for our hospitable entertainment. Glad to get out of our wet clothes, we soon turned into bed, and awaited a fine morning. It did not come. All night the rain descended and continued through the whols of Sunday. The neat little Methodist Church awajied its dedicatory service, and despite the wild morning about 15 persons came to participate therein. Throughout the afternoon the rain fell without intermission, and the Rai still rose. At 7 o'clock, though teeming rain, tweuly-fivo persons assembled at the Church, when the preacher spoke on the influence of public worship on the individual and national character, and congratulated the people on the possession of so neat and well-finished a building as a House of Prayer. Though the mill had been erected but some two years or so, -within that period both a primary school and a church had been placed on the ground. All night it rained. We woke and rose on Monday at 4.30 a.m., and still it rained. One of us was due in Nelson for a wedOing that very day. Commiseration was expressed for the bride and bridegroom, who were pictured innocently seated in the church and waiting, waiting, all in vain, "For," said the people, "it is quite impossible for you to get out of Carluke for a day or two, and we have neither telephone nor telegraph, nor carrier pigeon, nor any means whatsoever of getting word across the river." At 5.30 a.m. the rain ceased. Mi Leonard generously undertook to put us on our road to the school suspension bridge, about two-and-a-half miles distant, which, if reached, would end our troubles, and at 6 o'clock we started. Many a nameless lake we circumvented and newly-made river -we dexterously crossed, until, in two hours' time, as wet as water to our knees, we almost reached the suspension bridge, upon which wo had feasted our eyes for upwards of an hour ; almost reached it, but not qnite. The Rai had managed to send an offshoot between us and the bridge. We determined to wade it, and having turned up our trousers to the utmost limit, and with our swag, portmanteau, umbrella, boots and socks lodged and hung about us in sundry places, managed, with no small dexterity, to walk a long slippery log to an island in the middle of tho ••■treain. The noise of the waters convinced us that wading was useless here! and one of us stripped to the skin and eutered the swollen current, only to find that swimming was necessary. But, wondering what he should do when he reached the other side he retnrned to^the island, put on his shirt, attempted to retrace his steps across the long log, but missed his footing and slipped in up to the shoulder. At this stage a stranger on the further side kindly undertook to help us across by giving us one end of a rope, "for," said he, "the stream will be over your head, but not much." Finding that we should also have to tie our portmanteau, swag, umbrella, socks, etc., etc., to the rope to be drawn through with us we quickly echoed "not much," and the naked one dressed whilst both wondered. The rope-offering friend then informed us that if we retraced our steps to some distant terraces we should find an iron tramway, which if we • followed about a mile or so would bring ns to a bridge that we could easily cross. We gathered up our traps and found in time the iron road, only to learn that part of it was under water, and that It would bs dangerous to walk the "baulks." Then, indeed, the parson's heart failed him as he realised the utter impossibility of reaching the telegraph office to save the bride and bridegroom from the humiliation of waiting in the church in vain on their bridal day. Some lines of the "Ancient Mariner" had already been upon His lips as he saw "Water, water everywhere." Now further lines involuntarily escaped hjm as he cried "The guests are met, the feast is 6et," and the parson, where is he? But the extremity had passed, for at that moment a jigger worked by four merry fellows came in sight, and two of them volunteered to carry ns over the flooded rails. We quickly got aboard, and how the water rose in geyser force as the jigger rushed into the crossing stream, and descended upon us in copious cascades ! But wo laughed through our artificial fears, and in due time reached the bridgo under which our enemy, like a mad bull, rushed with thundering bellows. Said the jigger-men : "Here is a depth of 30 feet of water !" and that water was travelling about 10 knots an hour. Across the bridge, we reached the road, ana by rapid walking arrived at Flat Creek Post Office at 11 minutes past 10. The telegram was written arranging for another officiating minister at the marriage. "Will this be despatched at once!" said the parson. "At once," said .the girl. But it wasn't despatched at once. The telegraph office was closed, closed until 12.30 p.m., and the poor parson knew nothing about it, and we got our maTe and harnessed her in the trap, and started home under the impression that the message was despatched "at once." It is satisfactory to record that the wire was not too late. The message reached the desired minister at 2.20 p.m. He was comfortably lying down', with Bljpers on for a quiet, nap, for he is over 80 years of age ; but by 2.45 he was in the Presbyterian Church, suitably dresseS and prepared with his license and inarriage papers. What do you- think of that for Sleepy Hollow? Well, we gojt away from Flat Creek, laving found that our friendly guide of Saturday night had in our absence befriended the mare and kept her -in fit condition for her immediate journey As we journeyed we spead oufcrour w*inerag wet underclothes lahoiit the trap, hauW m "the wash&g" when a traV& ler hgVe in sight, and spreading to: the breeze when free. We reached the Halfwa^House about 12.30 p.m., and fg^ n fomjdinMr and Mrs Bird obliging fiends. WWkt we partook of »S ■Ui* kitchen stove, boots, were humrHm the pajings, socks dried iu thoenn, B^ »n &. -eouple of hourse we etarted warm and dryfor Nelson, which; we reached cold and wet, at 6.30, for the rato it had never ceased. And this was a mid:?ninmcr outing in, Nelson I