FULL REPORT or DR. HECTOR'S EXPEDITION TO THE WEST COAST, WITHIN SIGHT OF THE SEA, AND ONLY EIGHT MILES FROM THE BEACH.

Southland Times, Volume I, Issue 40, 27 March 1863, Page 5 (Supplement)

FULL REPORT or DR. HECTOR'S EXPEDIT ION TO THE WEST COAST, WITHIN SIGHT OF THE SEA, AND ONLY EIGHT MILES FROM THE BEACH.

WE take the following report of this expedition from the Otago Daily Times. It was written by the special reporter of that journal, Mr. Sullivan, and will be found replete with interest : — Left Bank of the Matukituki River, February 9th, 1863. We start to-morrow at daybreak for further explorations to the westward, and as it is very probable that you will hear nothing more of our whereabouts for some time, I send you this to explain what in that Case may appear unaccountable silence on my part. At the conclusion of my last dispatch T informed you that by dint of hard work we had succeeded in tracking a boat for eighteen miles up the stream, a task which, I believe, has never before been attempted. This was necessary as there was no other means of conveying the instruments auH appliances necessary for Dr Hector's work sufficiently far into the interior of the mountains to establish a central camp, for the prosecution of work during the remainder of the summer. In effecting this Dr Hector was absent two days, wading with his men the greatest portion of the distance up the stream, while his assistants at the camp were employed in the mountains making geological observations, and obtaining botanical specimens. My task was to examine the flat for a track, by which to take the pack horses on to the point reached by the boat, the difficulty being to thread through the swamps, which extend from the base of the mountain to the margin of the river. I succeeded in finding a sufficiently practicable one to within half a mile of the projecting point of the mountains, where Thompson's Cattle Flat terminates, and where the first of two lakes commences, from which small creeks issue to the main stream. At this point the marshy lands become too treacherous to admit of a passage, and the only available portion is through a few yards in width of shrub growth and fern, on the immediate banks of the river. The dangerous character of these swamps are well indicated by the f |§stence of the Itaupos and Maori Heaos rising here and there on their surfaces. It is well that these natural indications of treacherous land »are so prominent, otherwise rider and horse, in the endeavor to travel what to all appearance is solid ground, would be irrevocably engulphed in an unknown depth of mire. By following the margin of the river, we were compelled to cross numerous small creeks, which Issue from the two lakes referred to above. These creeks, in common with many others throughout the Province, deposit a large quan4ity of ochre as their currents become i sluggish on approaching the river, showing that their waters are strongly impregnated with iron, derived probably from the rocks which compose the mountains. The effect of this sediment on our trousers, while wading the streams, was to impart a temporary rusty red dye, and which was not wholly removed by continual washing. The marsh lands extend from Thompson's Flat to a distance of five miles up the valley, and terminate opposite a conspicuous mountain .opposite the Black Peak, and are then succeeded by magnificent primeval forest, — the forest of the Matukituki. On arriving at the borders of the second lake, our difficulties were great! j increased by the swamps — for the spact of four hours we plodded to our wnjsts in the water, leading the pack horses through dense clouds of sanri flies am mosquitoes. Towards evening the mir< became more deep, and in less thai ■five minutes all the horses with the ex ceplion of two, had sunk so effectual)} into the mire os to preclude any pro bability of again rising laden. No al ternative remained for us but to eas' the animals of their burdens, pack tin ba<matje piecemeal on our backs, an< seek" the driest spot on which to leav it. By the time we had accomplishei this and extricated the horses, night accompanied by a real mountain showe compelled us to encamp. To the n.r tistic painter of natural scenes, th swamps in this part of the eountrj .g with men and horses floundering for sc lid ground, would prove an excellei: subject, his picture would form an ap propriate frontispiece to Mrs Ilarrit Beecher Stowe's recent novel illustra tive of the Lake of the Dismal Swamt The following morning, we were sue cessfully keeping on the sand bars ( the river to avoid a large tract of ver bad country, but ultimately, about tw miles before arriving at our present er < campment, we were forced to betak ourselves to the swampy flat, and pui sue a like course to that of the pr« ceding day. This was owing to ti

direction which the main channel of the river takes in this part of its course. It cuts right into the flat, and pursues a deep and rapid course from the point at which its waters come from the westward, at times carrying away the exterior portion of the sandy formation which rise on its banks, and of those in the centre of the stream. The furthest end of the marshy land is succeeded by a dry, sandy plain, intersected by two creeks, which roll almost perpendicularly over the sides of the neighboring mountains, and which as viewed from our camp have a fine appearance in their meanderings through the luxurious vegetation below. The magnificence and variety of the shrub growth on this plain, is absolutely too great to admit of description. It will suffice to say that it is a natural botanical garden of shrubs, abounding in specimens that would add additional grace to the patrician parks of England. There are three or four distinct Species of the Eurybia alone, and the Carmichalia here surpasses in beauty any of the same species I have seen elsewhere. There is one curious fact observable in the Eurybia here, viz., they are all small leafed, and in this differ from those common to the environs of Dunedin. Those common to the latter place are not found here, and vice versa. In the damp and shady nooks of the gullies and ravines, new forms of the Cryptogarria are abundant ; and, in fact, the whole neighborhood promises to be so rich in botanical productions that the botanical collection of Dr. Hector's journey alone, will prove of great importance to the lover of science, as well as afford useful information to the inhabitants of the colony. It will be a pleasing piece of intelligence for the horticultural amateurs and gardeners of Otago, to know that a number of new species of the Shrubby Epicredia as well as of the Eurybia have been discovered, and that we may yet entertain hopes of obtaining the seed, The advantages offered by this place to Mr Buchanan, the botanical collector, as well as its situation with respect to wood and water, show that Dr. Hector could not have chosen a better for the site of a Central Camp. The dense sombre green forest of Birch (Beach) extends from this point 12 or 13 miles up the valley, with a southern exposure. The trees are of large dimensions, one close to my tent measures \2 feet in circumference at the distance of 1 foot from the ground, and is from 90 to 100 feet in height. This is by no means a giant amoniz pigmies, the ■rreater number nearly equal it in dimensions, while there are others superior to it in es'ery respect. It is curious to observe almost the entire absence of the Pine, but judging from the fewyoung ones scattered here and there amon" the Bird), there can be no doubt that at no great distance we shall find them plentifully distributed. The contrast between the forest of the Matukituki with its feathery occupants, and the marshy flats with their myriads of insect life, is strikingly pleasing. After wading through the latter exposed to the merciless persecutions of the sandllies and mosquitoes, our camp j in the lofty forest of birch, cheered by | numerous birds, to us is a Paradise. [ While writing about the birds in this part of the country, I should wish to correct a statement frequently made with respect to the marked poverty of the woods in birds. It is a great mistake, — an altogether erroneous idea. Ducks are plentiful in the creeks, the marshes, j and along the river banks. 'Woodhens are extraordinarily numerous ; and groups of trees mi^hc be seen in j j the forest literally thick with ka-kas. | A fairly expert sportsman, even sup- I posing he did not carry havoc among the thousands of large eels in the j stream, would, from among the birds ; alone, obtain a plentiful supp'y of food. The smaller birds, as the inquisitive little robin, are so friendly as to prefer a perch on your knee or head ; the tiny tai'less, and other small birds, with whose names 1 am not familiar, are scarcer than those above ; and once, since establishing the camp, we have been visited by the crow. In order to give you some idea of the manner in which the Ka-kas appear at certain times, I have only to tell you that ou Sunday last about 50 of them paid us a visit, and a sufficient number to feast the whde party was obtained without the least effort. At tto great distance from here, a fine glacier, sending its mountain torrents ty precipitous leaps to join the main nver below, has a grand appearance. Beneath the bright rajs of an early norning sun, it has all the semblanct of a mass of silver, with liquid streans pouring over the rich brown carpetng of the mountain side. As, however, a considerable portion of time will bi spent among the glaciers on the trip ye start upon to-morrow, I shall resell for a future dispatch a descripfon cf this glacier, and those further up thi valley.

n Left Bank of the y Waikouaiti River, I March Bth, 18G3. |_ EtainCTJust returned from our trip c to tb "West Coasb of the island, I c hasta to prepare an account of the d jourEy for transmission to yoa by the c first >pportunity that offers. ( ] Itwill V>e recollected that in my lnst t, disptch I pave an account of our arri;r val it this place, where Dr. Hector's r- Ceaal Camp is fixed, and that I intjie matd his intention of further exploray, lior of the country to the westward. > AcJrdingly, leaving half the party, in wbh consisted of six, Dr. Hector takD- in with him one man (I. Rayer) and et mself, started on the 11th of February a- l'( a preliminary exploration in that p. erection. Each of us led a packc- irse, carrying provision, sufficient, of itb proper economy, for a month, ry onsisting principally of the Pemican, yo 'hich had be^n prepared at Ray's n- tation, a few pounds of bacon, flour, te^ea, sugar, &c. We took no tent, but r.,us a substitute a large oil-skin sheer, e-with which to erect a shelter on the be plan of the bsckwoodgmen in America,

under which we could sleep and sit, and at the same time enjoy the full advantage of a rousing fire in front of us. Proceeding up the valley of the Matukituki, we found it to preserve the same character for several miles, as that described in my last letter, viz., a broad shingle channel, out of all proportion to the magnitude of the stream, and only very partially occupied by it. On either side of the river, between it and the mountains which almost rise precipitously, there is a variable extent of swampy land, which in a state of nature is nearly impassable, but yet supports a luxuriant growth of tough tangled rooted grasses, so that eventually they may become excellent feeding grounds for cattle. As the river was flooded, owing to the rains which had poured incessantly for the few days previous, it was with difficulty we forded the various channels, and we had frequently to leave the stream altogether, and bear away through the dense scrub, which consists of prickly thorn, with an undergrowth of large sized bayonette grass. Our progress was slow, so that by the evening of the first day we bad only accomplished 7 miles. A dense fog continued to obSi'ure the higher mountains from our sight, but, strange to say, instead of this adding to the gloom, as might be expected, it gave rise to a feeling oi relief, as these profound and rugged valleys assumed the appearance of open country, bounded on all sides by low and richly-wooded hills. Early next morning 1 obtained my first view of the icy pinnacles of Mount Aspiring, its apparent altitude being greatly increased by the rolling mist which still enshrouded its base. Mount Aspiring is one of a group of lofty mountains, all of which it evidently overtops by a pyramidal mass of rock almost too steep to allow of eternal snow resting on its surface, and winch forms the characteristic feature by which it might be recognised almost at any distance. About ten miles above our main camp, the Matukituki is formed by the confluence of two equal sized branches. The one from the north, although the shortest, may be properly considered the main stream. The other, which sweeps from the west, joins it through a rocky defile, which at first sight we anticipated would ofler an obstacle to our progress. We were, however, agreeably surprised to find it occupied by au open flat, fringed by noble forests of beech, which clothe the mountain sides also to the height of about 2.000 feet. From our central camp right up to this point, but only on the left, bank of the main river, these forests preserve a uniform density, and commence close to the margiu, leaving in some parts no extent of alluvial flat. This difference in the vegetation observable on the two banks i 3 due to exposure. The mountains on the left bank facing the westward being favored by the prevalent moist winds from the west coast of the island, support a magnificent forest, while those on its right, entirely sheltered from those benign influences, present nothing but bare and rugged rocks. A.short distance above the junction of the two branches, we required to ford the stream, but, although we had to contend with only half the volume of water we had previously, we experienced much greater difficulty, as it was now compressed into one broad, deep, and swift current. It was only after several attempts, in one of which we all narrowly escaped being swept down the stream, that we ultimately succeeded in reaching the U«ft bank. The scenery fur two miles al>ove this ford is extremely beautiful. The mountains on either hand are to he seen burrowed by impetuous torrents, issu ing from the snow at their summits, and gaining the level of 'the river by a succession of wild leaps. One of the most strikingly picturesque of these cascades descends by six precipitous bound? from an altitude of about twelve hundred feet, forming graceful curves of white spray that are momentarily being swayed into fantastic shapes by every gust of wind. The dark green shades cf the massive beech forests along the base of the mountains also, are re'ieved at intervals by the pale verdant of patches of Mallow trees, which at this season were covered with their snowy white blossom. On the loth February we re-crossed the river, and making a considerable ascent oq its right bank, gained the elevated terrace, which borders the gorge immediately below M'Kerrow's Flat. The tangled nature of the scrubby vegetation in this portion of the valley, and the frequent succession of deep gullies, rendered our progress so slow and tedious that Dr Hector struck off to the river and succeeded in finding a more practicib!.? track by which to avoid the labor of hewing, as well as a means of again descending into the immediate valley of the stream. In the gorge the channel is beset with huge boulders, rendering the liver for some distance a series of foaming rapids, as well as preventiug any track being practicable along the edge of its waters. Just above the gorge, through a nerrow fissure in the mountains, there is a fine view of the glaciers which clothe the southern flanks of Mount Aspiring, affording a good idea of t^e enormous quantity of ice which mantles on these Alpine slopes. We are here able (is it were to form an adequate conception of those profound ice valleys of the interior of the Mount Aspiring group, without the labor of exploring the valleys themselves, and incurring the frequent risks by which glacial travelling is attended. Owing to the river beingkept flooded by continuous rain, we were obliged to avoid its channel, and pursue our course through the wooded points on its banks, thereby occupying above three days in accomplishing twenty miles of its course. At the end of this time the obstacles to taking horses further increased so apparently, as the woods closely hemmed the river, that

, Dr Hector determined to leave them at t this point, where they could range over i excellent pasture as low down as M'Kerrow'« Flat, without being able to rejoin their companions at the main s camp, owing to the gorge which is there > interposed. The Matukituki in this part of its course flows clue south, and we were , now within a few miles of the boundary line of the Province of Canterbury, ; which crosses it at right angles, and ! opposite to a depression in the moun- . tains to the westward, which from a 7 distance had seemed favorable to our ; further progress to the west, and from which their issued a large tributary to ■ the river As it was Dr Hector's wish to keep as close to the boundary line as • possible, and within the Province of Otago, he devoted the 15th tosearching for a " pass in that direction. By a laborious climb he ascended the mountains to a height of about five thousand feet, but could observe no available i route, as the extent of the nick, or depression, was deceptive, and confined to the exterior range bordering the , valley ; while to the westward a sue- : cession of lofty mountains rose from an extensive mer de glace. To the north, however, he perceived that, by follow- • ing the Matukituki to its source, a com- ? parativfly low saddle would lead into a : region of country in which the moun- \ tuins appeared to have a lesser elevation. He resolved, therefore, to make the first attempt in this direction. Accordingly, the following day he made a cache of the bulk of our provisions and other articles not needful for the further journey, and arranged 3 packs of about 50lbs each, to carry with us. Unfortunately, our oil-skin sheet was too heavy, so that our only protection during the nights consisted of two blankets and an oppossum rug. On the 16th we continued our journey alonir the edge of the river, climbing over the huge boulders which are dispersed along its margin. Considering the Wei jrli t of our packs and the dingerous nature of our mode of travel, the task was by no means enviable. If, for one instance we had stumbled or lost our balance, the result must have been either a broken limb or being swept clown by the violence of the stream. But with all th-i labor and hardship of movntain travel, it is not altogether devoid of pleasures. Even here, for instance, in spite of 501 b packs and risks of broken limbs, one musi indeed be dead to the poptry of nature, who could not admire the sublimity of the scenes which surrounded him. A "wild rolling river* such as the Matukituki, at this place rolling angrily over its rocky bed and receiving tribute of silvery rivulets from among the foliage of the neighboring mountains, as by no means a common-pbee natural scene. It is one that can be enjoyed in the mountains only, before the river has tamed itself down for the uses of civilised communities — before it mingles with the ocean. About two miles above, where we left the horses, the mountains on either j side of the stream present cut cliffs j quite perpendicular to its waters, so that we were compelled to c'imb a spur j and pass through the woods to avoid the obstacles which they thus offered to our progress. The operation was by no means easier than following the river brink, owin^r to the soft mossy footing which the ascent afforded. Passing through the thick woods which are intersected by deep cuttings chocked wi;h fern scrub and mass3sof decayed vegetation, we attain descended to the boulders in the bed of the river, and following it a short distance merged on a small plain, about a mile and a half lonir, and occupying almost the whole breadth of the valley. We encamped here, at the foot of the strip of mountain,which some time previous had been cleared of forest by the violence of a recent avalanche. A mass of trees torn up by the roots, and surrounded by an enormous quantity of rock, lay piled around us, au indication of the tremeti- j dous power which produced such ruin. Finding that our rate of travel, on account of the difficulties of the route, became too slow for us to advance far \ with our slender supply of provisions, we made a reduction of our packs, and with Uolbs each resumed our march. The remainder, which was two-thuds, of our Supplies, was tied in a parcel and slung to the forks of a tree. From our second cache, the ascent towards the source of the Matukituki is very rapid, and at the dislance of about three miles from it, the first glacier is met. It is very insignificant indeed, scarcely deserving the name, and forming a steep incline, which commences at a considerable distance below where the woods terminate on the mountain sides, and descends to within a few yards of the river. From the ice cave, at its lowest extremity, a small stream Mows to the main channel, which, both above and below their junction, is contracted and rocky, causing the river to assume the character a series of foaming cascades. Four miles still further up ihe valiey, we attained the "limit of the woods ;'' and, although early in the altornoon, we encamped at this place, as we should get no fuel until we had crossed the saddle and descended to the " limit of the woods' 1 on the other I side. The altitude at which this limit | on the eastern side of the saddle is observable is about 3,500 feet above the sea. From this point to the base of il.e height of land, the river valiey is extremely rugged, being occupied by old glaciers, presenting the general chaos common to all moraines, viz., a confused mass of angular and smoothly worn boulders distributed without any regard of size, or order of deposit. On reaching the base of the saddle or " height of land," which we accomplished in about an hour from our encampment on the 1 7th, we observed that this branch of the Matukituki originates chiefly by two minor branches, one of which issues from a glacier occupying a portion of the saddle, and the other from a second glacier oil the adjacent mountain. Numerous small streams also from the neighboring

mountains, traversing the moraine, ftd(j their waters to the main river, but then volume is only small when compared with the other tributaries lower down the valley. We were now at the most northwesterly portion of the Province of Otago, and close to the boundary line which separates it from that of Canterbury, having followed the largest tributary of the Molyneux to its source. By a steep climb, we gained the summit of the saddle, following the couse of the larger of the minor arms of the Matukituki, travelling a portion of the distance on the uppermost glacier which feeds the river. The height of the saddle above the sea is about 5,900 feet. From this point a most magnificent view was spread out before us. The high mountains to our right, with their clear blue pinnacles of ice pointing to the sky, and shrouded in enormous glaciers, presented a truly Alpine scene, while the whole valley at our feet was completely filled by a glacier occupying an area of about 5 square miles. This latter, as well as the mountain from which it descends, and the river to which it gives birth, Dr. Hector named in honor of Mr. Haast, the Provincial Geologist of Canterbury, that gentleman being the first scientific traveller to describe the glaciers of New Zealand. After making an examination as to the best way to descend, a task noth perilous and laborious, owing to the glacialised surface of the rock composing the mountain, and the high angle of inclination of its side, we commenced our descent. For some distance we succeeded easily, but occasionally we wore completely stopped by a peculiar blue rock interbedded with the slate, and which may be appropriately likened, from its undulating surface, to corrugated iron. About half-way from the bottom, I could assimilate our position to nothing better than flies on a wall ; and in order to render our movements more sure, we took off our packs, and rolled them over the side of the mountain to a heap of boulders lying at its base. Although we had started from the saddle at about 1 p.m., it was growing dark by the time we had gained the upper part of the small glacier to our left, and it was at least 800 feet above the true base of the mountain, or 900 feet above the surface of Haast's glacier. The Continual fall of avalanches and loose stones in the valley occupied by the small glacier, rendered travelling very danucrons, and as night was fast approaching Dr. Hector thought it advisable to reascend a portion of the mountain, and avail ourselves of a hole in the rock for a night's lodgings, as well as a shelter from the falling ice. The accommodation afforded by the mountaiu in the shape of beds was extremely hard, but, as travellers are often forced to do, we made the bt-st of a luckless position. Gathering a few dry stalks of some alpine plants, just sufficient to boil a kettle, and half" roast a caw caw, we drank some tea, shared our bird, and very like the " Riot Digger Indious," snuggled together in our mountain hole till the first rays of morning again revealed the icy pinnacles that towered above us, and the deep field of ice spread out at our feet. The night was extremely comfortless*, with a high wind that howled among the mountain fastneses,and chilled U3 in our rocky cave. Atintarvalsa crashing noise like the outburst of distant thunder, told us of avalanches quitting their icy thrones to pay their tribute to the Ocean King, while at the same time, it suggested to us the real value of a place of safety despite its stoic hospitality. E-irly next morning ive descended to the smali glacier alluded to above, and prepared to traverse it. The valley which it occupies does not exceed one-and-a-half miles long and about a quarter of a mile broad, but owing to the steepness of the glacier, and the deep ''crevasses'' or rents that occur in the ice, a lar^e amount of Alpine experience and skill are requisite before actempling to cross it. It assumes also the shape of a wedge, and in consequence of its sides nowhere touching the rocks that border it on either hand, but surrounded by wide chasms instead, its impracticability is therefore rendered still more apparent. Previous to starting from Dunedin, Dr. Hector, by his foresight, had provided a small sized cord of about three-sixteenths of an inch in diameter, and 80 feet in length, similar to what is used as tracking lines in canoe voyages on the rivers of Canada, and from its great utility to parties fording rapid rivers in this country, experience has taught us that it cannot be too strongly recommended. For instance, when crossing the strong and rapid current of a river, our method was to tie the cord to our waists, at a distance of twelve or fourteen feet the one from the the other, then while the leader was baffling with the force of the stream in the deepest and strongest part of its course, he was supported by the others until he had reached a portion of the river the force of which he was able to contend with, and at the same time afford assistance to the next in order to cross, and so on until all had gained the opoosite bank. In descending the small glacier in like manner, we were thus attached the one to the other, to prevent any serious accident happening in case of slipping the foot or falling into one of those frightful "crevasses, 1 ' the sight of which is so often alone sufficient to unnerve the stoutest heart. We encountered two very dangerous fissures in the descent. Both were too wide to leap, and we cleared them in the following manner Dr Hector sought out the most practicable part, where the ice on one side approached more nerrly th.3 ice on the other, and with an a^e cut steps to where it was possible to leap ; then he continue.! cutting steps in a slanting direction until he had gained the top of the ice on the opposite side of the "cravasse." Thjs beiiig done, we attached the packs to the middle of ihe cord, and he pulled them across. Then with our waists carefully atttached, and follow! n£Uw : ptepi £•

I had cut, we passed over singly in th< ■ manner he himself had done. We occupied two and a half hours in getting i to the commencement of the Haast'i Glacier. Having had scarcely any sup- • per the night previous, and no breakfast ■ before starting, we collected some drifi i wood that had been pushed along by the glacier, and made a meal before proceeding to traverse the large glacier. We lost little by this delay, for by the time we had refreshed ourselves, we had the most favorable part of the day for the work of threading our way across the great field of ice which lay before us. Dr Hector having carefully examined the surface with his glass, end fixed upon the best route for avoiding the "crevasses," took the lead, three of us being lashed together as before by the rope. At first we had to ascend the glacier for some distance to head a wide and profound •' crevasse," compelling us to pass along blocks of ice and stone, the debris of avalanches which fall every ten or fifteen minutes from the higher part of the glacier. Luckily for us, by hurrying on we passed this danger during an interval, but had scarcely got beyond its reach when one of the most tremendous avalanches that we had witnessed came rolling down, sending blocks of solid ice of many tons in weight to within a few yards of where We stood, while the place we had so recently passed was overwhelmed with smaller fragments and masses of rock. The cause of these continual avalanches is the alow motion by which the elevated ice fields of Mount Aspiring advance to the edge of the precipice that overhangs the valley occupied by the glacier. Pillar like masses which, slowly swelling in the sun's rays, assume fantastic forms that glisten against the sky-line for a few days or hours, until they topple with a crash on to the surface of the lower ice field, when the fragments become re-cement-ed, and by the pressure of their own superincumbent weight slowly advance down the gentler slope of the valley in the form of a glacier. The height from which this '* ice cascade 1 ' descends is about fifteen hundred feet, and the mass of ice thus formed into a glacier is probably not less than five hundred feet in thickness at its upper end, and at its lower about one hundred feet. Its le-igth, as I previously stated, is five miles, and in that distance the slooe of its surface amounts to eleven hundred feet. It may easily be conceived what a gigantic power this immense weight exercises on the rock 3 by which it is enclosed, although its downward motion be exceedingly slow, wearing and scooping out the valley, and pushing and carrying loads of broken rock to form what are called mozanies along its sides and at its lower extremity. The chasms or crevasses which caused us such difficulty in crossing its surface, are due to this same downward motion of the ice. They are of two kinds, the first transverse to its length, are found when the ice passes over a sharp declivity on the rocky bottom. At first they are straight, but soon, from the greater rapidity with which the central part of the trlacier progresses, beinir freed from the friciion against the rocky walls, they form a series of curves that resemble the ripples on a smooth flowing stream. The second are in the length of the glacier, and are caused when the body of ice passes from a narrower to a wider part of the valley, when it splits up as it were by its own weight in the endeavor to expand. The day was very fine and warm, rendering the ice moist, tough, and easy to travel ovei\ so that our enjoyment of the journey across was very great. There are many novelties to interest the traveller in traversing a glacier for the first lime. The enor. mous blocks of rock which rests on its surface perched on slrnder pinnacles of ice, the " moulons," or mills, where the surface water escapes into the body of the g'acier by a circular hole, whirling stones round within it with great velocity, the trains of stones and heaps of dirt that stretch in regular lines from projecting angles of rock from which they fall to the surface of the ice, and. slowly and steadily carried forward, all these (provided the weather be favorable) yieid sources of abundant interest. Even to enjoy the deep azure blue of the " crevasses'' repays one for the necessary risk of stretching one's neck over these awful chasms. We occupied the same time in crossing Haast's glacier as that in descendin" th? smaller one already alluded to, viz., two and a half hours, and at its completion ws encamped a few yards below where the river of that name commences its hurried course. It originates by two minor arms, the second being only thirty or forty yards from the first, and if any thing a little longer than it. The following day, the 19tb, after making a cache of one and a half pounds of flour, and three boxes of sardines, we began our descent of the Haast, and by nightfall of this dote had got at a distance of about eight miles from its source, our travelling being somewhat analogous to that in our ascent of the branch of the Matukituki, sometimes climbing over huge boulders, at others plodding through dense woods. In this short distance the river is joined by numerous tributaries, the largest by far occurring on its -light bank, close to our encampment of this date, so that its volume rapidly increases. The very steep incline of its ehannelalso renders the current almost impassable, so that in following the stream one is not always able to ford it at will, so as to escapo the difficulties which the woods and rocks occasionally offer. At the distance of four and nino miles from its source, the river passes through gorges with an amazing velocity, and so rapid is the descent of its valley, that viewing tall trees at a comparative short distance off, their tops are seen on a level with the eye. Dr Hector ascertained its fall to be in this part; of its course as seven in thirty. Conjttnping our, course for aboatvjgjf

s progress by a precipitous cut ° }f ? - for about one hundred, feet aJtOrl^^^H ; surface of the river, is quite a vegetation, and presents a perpe njf^^^H * lar smooth surface. Considertng\|^^^H t we had been travelling the whole' f^^^| t tance down the stream in a norti fl^^^f direction, and thereby penetrating i^^^| > the Province of Canterbury, Dr Hio^^^H , felt that he was thus on ground be; i^^^H r the limit of his special duties. H^^g^^l , hywever, taken so much troubls^^^H > contending with the difficulties °f]|^^H district, he would obtain as much tatf^^^l mation as possible relative to the mou^^H tainous region to the westward, b< fo^^^f , proceeding any farther by the valley |^^H the Haast. To accomplish this, I^^| 1 turned back for' about one and a o|^^H miles, crossed the river, made a s ntj^^H cache of pemican and flour sufficiertfj^^H one meal, and descended a mountain l^^H has named Pigeon Mountain, near f^^^M summit of which we encamped on t^^^| night of the 21st. The foUovyii^^H morning we proceeded along the sura^^^J mit of the ridge to the highest pohit^^^J the mountain, when to our great d^^^| light the ocean shore lay stretched b^^^H fore us at the distance of about fiftee^^^H miles. From this point the whole cojirs^^H of the river by which we had desceride^^^H was accurately traced, and it was fqun^^^J to sweep through a perfect canon a^^^H distance of two miles above the point s^^H which it debouches into a. river, the yal^^H ' lev of which ranges from three to ifivfl^H miles in width, and whose volume water is at least equal to the Molyneu^^^J when it leaves the Wanaka Lak(^^^J From careful bearings, which Dr HecU^^^J had taken throughout the route we ha^^H followed, we learnt that what we sa^^^J was Jackson's Bay, he therefore name^^H the river which flows into it the Jack-T^H Son. • ■ .' ; '-"^1 The view which we obtained of jtbaf^J mountains on all sides of us, was ex^l^H tensive and grand To our rightt^H Mount Aspiring enveloped in ice, and^^H to our left, Mount Richards, with th<f^M enormous glacier which forms the |^B source of the Jackson, are the mo3t^^B conspicuous mountains in the respec-^H rive groups. The latter Dr. Hector^M has named in bonorof the distinguished Survey Captain, whose labors on the West Coast will be still fresh iv thttj^| memory of most familiar with tbJ^H Coast Survey. .^H The valley of Jackson's river is eut4^H up into extensive shingle flats, which, '^M as a rule, instead of supporting a fl stunted vegetation, like those to the coast, are covered by 6ne open forests V of spleudid timber. A considerable V quantity of good landwhich it oontaius-eS also, might at some future pariod be- fl come valuable. As viewed from Pigeon Mountain a wide flat occupies the lower portion of the valley, and with its I dense woody fringes the Ocean Beach, V while the river sweeps around a con- jH spicuous rounded hill, which seems to M riss from its centre to an elevation of ■ probably 1,000 feet. The sight of the ocean was too great Jjjfl a temptation for us to be satisfied that tafl we had proceeded far enough, and, jjH although our provisions were almost vfl entirely consumed, only about lib of fl flour being lefr, in the hope that wo ./*■ might get eels and obtain a sufficient ■ number of birds in the Jackson Valley ■ to admit of our descent to its mouth, M we determined to push on. Dr. I Hector's gun had supplied us with B numbers of ducks (oiw-cawa) oa thr&\fl|fl east of the height of laud, but in O!"$A^H descent of the Haasfc River, thescarcit of birds is very remark ible. Even th ~h^H w .odhens, so common at each of oi t^| encampments to the east of the Saddle, '^^ were represented on this side by*ouly 1 one or two of the spjeies. However, ' this might be a mere piece of unusual ; ill-luck we agreed, and trusting to the | protection of good fortune, lvsumed ; our packs for the descent of the Jack- ... sou's Valley. Keeping along the ridge which forms the northern boundary of a thickly timbered valley that lead 3 into that of the Jackson, we travelled for about one a half uaile3 before commencing the descent. From the ridge, the slope down to the former is grassy and undulating, with no timber, butdo'ted thickly with small lakes surrounded by peat. The whole surface of this grassy slope is cut up by numerous rents or fissures, indicating, probably, that this region had I been formerly visited by earthquakes. j Along the topofthe ridiie, our attention I was attracted by a curiously worn track, J about two feet wide, which at first I 1 imagined might be an old Maori track to ; A some part of the valley of the river. : 'fl Dr. Hector, however, alter carefully ex-'^H amining it, pi'onouneed it the track of' H some birds, pointing out certain mdi-• . cations which left no doubt as to hisi H conclusion. The animal that was in- ■ the habit of resorting to this elevated i ■ promenade, had scooped out here and ; j and there rounded holes, possibly, ..■ as resting places, in the manner in which. ■ the grizzly bear does in the haunts he 1 frequents. These tracks are never to •-M be seen penetrating into the woods, 1 but keep in the direction of their edge, ; at no great distance from them. They j had been evidently in disuse for a long ; , time, and as no like tracks freshly made were observed, it is reasonable to con- I elude that the animals that made them I are extinct, or, to say the least, exceedingly rare. It was about noon before we djßdescended into the woods ; the thick 7 masses of decayed vegetation, over- | nrrown by mosses and under-growth, J served to fill up the spaces between the >M rugged angular masses of rock which, A on this portion of the Pigeon Mountain, j seemed to be detached from themountain side. -Great care was 1 taken in passing over the first part ofrthejour- j ney, as sometimes treacherous -holes I lay concealed beneath a*, s'popgeyf layer <&M of moss and rotten wood/ The fomatacowra, that • painful impediment ', to ijf'i the traveller) doesi not exUtoikjtat^J woods of the wetK^n^iAhe bayonetU J j grass, equally^ruel, is*ofVejweedingly^J •rare sttcuWac^^dytisisiyjrfoubte^s^H I owing J^ti^^^^^MriMljfl^^^^|