"THE WARRIGAL" AT NGARUA WAHIA.

Waikato Times, Volume XXXII, Issue 2629, 18 May 1889, Page 3

"THE WARRIGAL" AT NGARUA WAHIA.

TltK following interesting description of the pretty little town of Ngarnawahia, written by " The Warrigal," t!-:o travelling correspondent of the Melbourne Leader, is extracted from the columns o: that journal : — It was Christmas tid ! wlien I reached Ngaruawahia, and the. weal leu - was divine, with clear, calm days and c.din, cool nights ; and what a lovely place Ngai uawahia is under Ihe-o circumstaaces. '* Ouid.i'' in her best vein could write paRO after page in praise of this quaint little village and grow poetical over its bistory, ft is taiilt on the extreme point of a great trian«u!ar plain rvhieh lies between tl.o aipa anel the Waikato. The river with (he soft t. ucli enters the swift Waikato here, and thus t!u; Maoris called the place Nk'aruawahia, the meeting of wateis. The meeting is in the shadow of lofty forest covered hills— the. llakaraniata ranges. The Waipa has followed the base of these hills from Mount Pirongie, and seems loath to leavn them, for its darker waters still hug their base when joined to (lie Waikato and hurrying west towards the sea. Now the Waikato is the Waikato from its source, at the foot of Riant Ruapehu to its mouth, but ."t one time the Maoris called lhat portion above Ngaruawahia the Horotiu, and only that pm tion below the meeting of waters Waikato, which name means, "joined together and going away. ' There is not a fairer town in New Zealand than Ngaruawahia, Tlio slow deep Waipa. in its avenue of green widows, flowing past it from the land of the .Maori, brings" long canoes and quaintly dressed natives from the far interior, who land when they have reached this point. The swift clear Horotiu or upper Waikato from the wonderland of Taupo and the great burning mountain, curves westward to touch Ngaruawahia. Even the rugged fnrc.it covered Hakaramata ranee bends its iron back to shield Ngaruawahia from all but the gentlest of winds, and casts a guileful shade over the place. The streets are lined with noble trees, under whose shade the grass grows perpetually green. The houses are quaint and white, onilt wilh picturesque irregularity, and surrounded by trees and grass, () r orchards and gardens. And its people weie the happiest and most light hearted in tlia country until the Salvation Army came and brought the fear of hell and the solemnity of testimonies ; even now there are foino who can dance to tunes playi d by the army's brass band. The mail from Auckland arrives in the place at 1 p.m., and all the men of the town go to moi t it, half an hour before that time. Then they wait longer still before it, is sorted, for sorting is a >low proce.s--. at Ngai uawaliia. They ask for letters as. if they really expected some, open their daiiv i uipers .'i-i if the news w;r; uf llio utliiost itnpnt utncT. t*» them : then they discuss pulific-i, the we;iflift', fiiwii ftlfaii's, and tjvrniu;»lly wander <«tE in did.nont direct ions, but'onlv to gather nt?;un the sun hns to <>n the same things. I like people tJic.y are kind, l.nspitiiWe nnd cmrleniH, they are lovers of nm-ic and of outdoor pleasures. There aro two well trained bands in the little place, and on summer evenings Lhey play by the river, and the youn? people danc;) on the short finish. S ,AV )IS que.ntly four years ar;o, and thought what charming' oltl woild pielei'e it mafli;, but now sonio of the .same people gather on the Hume to sin# r-'wdy salvation tunes, to manifest their own surety of heaven, and warn their friends f.n.l of the terrible doom awaiting thoso who will not testify. I would far sooner listen to the happy, careless l.iuj?hti j r, the shout> of merry children, and t-hti I,p;tt of active dau'-infif feet keeping time with tlie music of ihe bntul, than hear the sau.n pe.oph l , uiiMi'-ibly excited and urdiappy lookinir, sin_ r iubb;sh!y mieo.nintrloss hynies, and as lo tliuir relipirms v: prrienees. One ha< only to b"iro\r a boat canoe iu:d cross the. \\'aipa to reach a beautiful primitive wiiderm>- ; , one-can wonder iu thn sh.ide of fon'4. trees by creeks, to v. lirro 1!m \vat« r eh'ar from the e.irth in ?omo<ccliidnd ravine, or tnmblos over rocks under arelu-.s of fern*. I think tin', pi'ftlitj.-t wateifa'l I cvr"; s.iw and the profu-ion of ferns and tno>ses are. to be found wilhm a >«hoit hour's walk from Ngaruawahia and in the, wilderness [ liave alluded to. Th.cn one can climb the ranpre* and iind ra)e lichens, lycopfKliums, coral iro-s-.i-, and a acore of beautiful things, besides tiaiuiim glorious views uf the country rtel >w and plinips- 1 .-. of fern gullies that would be counted a wnild's wonder in any other country but New Zealand. And in summer time one has only to row up the beautiful river to roach (jrov.siif peach and cheiry trees, and revel in th' ir abundance of fruit.

I hke In think of an older Ngarmuv.diia when it. was tin' Maori capital of tin; W alkato and the chiof town of tin' Ngatimaniapotos. I liko tn think of it when a Maori I: 11 r reigned in state there, ;in<l received visitors from a wide region, who came m canoes down the noUest rivers in the land to make proud obeisance to Pntatau. I should like to have seen it, when the Rival carved and painted war canoes were hauled ill the heath of the llonit.iu, or tied to spear* driven in the sandy banks of the Waipa ; but one can fancy all these things wandering about, the quiet shady streets, watching the .Maoris lounging ami playing beneath the trees, and catching glimpses of the two rivers through every opening. There, in the heart of the town, is the. tomb of l'atatau, King of all the Waikato. This tomb is in the Octagon, the recreation ground of N>taru:iwalii:i, a t ive-shaded place where line can lind soft gra.-s and cool .shadows 011 the hottest, day in summer, l'otatuu'.s tomb is a circular mound of earth in the centre of the Octagon, but his bones do not lie there—they were carried away by the faithful Maoris as soon as the pnkeha sot his foot 011 the sacred soil i f the Waikato, cirried away secretly, tar up the Waipa, and hurried, 11" one knows where, in ilie heart of the King Country. When first I saw Potatan's tomb the band was on it playing merry tunes, whilst the school children raced round it for prizes, though the temperature registered 10L deg., and it was mid-day. The spirit of the old Maori king would liave rejoiced, even though the hated pukeha made merry on his tomb, at the sight of people feasting there and children playing. I remember, too, that when there was a lull in the music and in the sound of children's voices I heard the river pong of the Maoris, and clambering on the tomb L saw two great canoes gliding down the Waipa filled with fierce-looking tattooed men and gorgeously-robed women. I cannot forgive those people who tried to change the name of the town from Xgaruawahia to Newcastle, surely they must have been a coaly set to have dreamt of such a change. Lot it remain Xgaruawahia, "the meeting of waters,' 1 until it becomes a coalopolis, and that will bo for ever, I think, for there is no coal this side the ranges that guard the town. Xo : Xgamawahia will never have the honour of becoming a mining place, but in time it may become a place of fruit and flower farms, for the soil is well adapted

vr both, and tho climate unsurpassed fur either, and if in time; tlie country about it l•; covered with fruit trees and flowers, and modest fortunes are made here by cultivating these things as tiiey are madf: elsewhere, there will be no need to regret too absence of coal. Uoats laden with fruit for the market are nicer to look at than grimy barges, u u ( j people leading healthy open air lives on their own small freeholds, living simply and fairly well, would be happier than a race of black-faced miner-'. I sin'n]ll like to sue this portion of the Waikato Mirpassing the south of Kranee in the lunmi iaiu'e of its gardens, anil in lime to collie I suppose the people will I urn their attention to other forms of agriculture than trying to fatten cattle r.n native growth, and to grow cereals 011 a I if] it pumice soil.