FROM GISBORNE TO PAKIRIKIRI.

Poverty Bay Standard, Volume X, Issue 1178, 18 October 1882, Page 2

FROM GISBORNE TO PAKIRIKIRI.

The first part of the road from Gisborne to Makaraka is decidedly uninteresting, not to say irksome. The stuff (I can’t call it by any other name) which has been laid somewhat too plentifully on the road between the “ Settlers’’ and Read’s gate makes travelling very disagreeable, however we get over this and in due course arrive at Makaraka. Here we find Host Scott and his usual genial welcome. By the way, I have noticed that whenever a hungry traveller pulls up at the Makaraka its always dinner time, or tea time, or supper time, in fact he’s always up to time. After enjoying a capital dinner we had a look round. The first thing that struck us was a splendid walnut wood piano in the bar parlor, the makers being the wellknown firm of W. Mauthey and Co., Berlin. We understand that Mr Scott has imported this handsome instrument from Auckland at considerable expense. His customers are grateful. Before leaving Makaraka we must mention the race-course, which reflects great credit on Mr Scott and the committee.

Having refreshed ourselves with one more pint of Johnstone’s XXX we proceeded on our way to the Big River. The country, although looking green and healthy shows the want of rain. Arriving at the Bridge Hotel we stop and interview Mr R. M. Steggall. In his usual courteous way he shows us over his premises ; most people in the Bay are cognisant of Mr Steggall’s skill in gardening. Roast lamb and green peas, new potato®, and all the delicacies of the season are to be had here for the asking, also a flower for your button-hole or a noseguy (we should have said bouquet) for your sweetheart. Try it ! Mr Steggall really offer great inducements to visitors and invalids ; the air is salubrious, and the walks and rides in the vicinity pleasant. Stimulated again by a bottle of Johnstone’s ale we proceeded on our way. The bridge across the Waipaoa is standing well, and looking none the worse for wear. The same cannot be said for the Arai Bridge, the unsightly remains of which are not at all picturesque. The unscientific traveller is u pt to Wonder why tho structure was ever

erected in such an awkward place ; why not bridge the river in a single span at the site of the present temporary bridge? Make it high enough, and flood-water and drift-wood might flow on their way unimpeded by piles and do no damage ; but I suppose somebody profits by these little accidents.

From the Arai to Pakirikiri is a pleasant ride ; unfortunatelythe spring being an unusually dry one, the grass is not looking nearly so well as usual ; still, the stock do not seem to be suffering. I passed through a splendid mob of ewes with lambs at foot belonging to Mr Allan McLean ; the ewes show every sign of a heavy clip, and the lambs are strong and healthy.

Pakirikiri is reached at last. Here Mr Devery is to be found. Lots of talk ! Horses, Sheep, Cattle, Native Lands, Wire Ropes, Blondins. The trade appears brisk ; and as for liquors, well, we again tried Johnstone’s ale, and felt refreshed, and those who tried whisky wanted some jnore. Joking apart, Mr Devery deserves great credit for the spirited way in which he conducts his establishment. A store is attached, replete with all the gorgeous apparel which gladdens the Native heart. The sea air is bracing, and here a man may swim, and fish, and eat, and drink, and be healthy and happy as long as he has a “shot in the locker ” wherewith to pay his reckoning. Having seen enough for one day, I crossed the river on the punt, now in full working order, and wended my way towards Gisborne via the Beach.