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High noon at Te Hekenga

We'd had a hard ride last night from Fort Hunter, but the sleep out under the stars had done us good. The kid, 'Draw, Hoss, and I saddled up and picked our way up the canyon until we reached the last outpost in these parts, a 'lil stockade called Rangiwahia - nothin' out to the east of here, 'cept injuns an' mountains of course. There was wagon train here too, reckoned they could get to Triangle stockade. Bit outta our way, but we rode with them a mite, then struck off in the direction of some mesas to the northeast. Just checkin' to see if it was any good for cattle beasts.

Our first bite for a while was at a waterhole next to an abandoned teepee, we met the injuns who owned it a bit further on. The ridin' heresabout was hard - the country was steep an' the sun blazed down. The guys was takin' it hard. We still had to climb over one mesa to get a view of the way ahead. Te Hekenga the injuns called it, pretty mean gettin off it too, all gorges, shingle and bluffs. We made it O.K. tho' it was no good for cattle beasts. We'd seen a campsite up ahead and made for it. Set up our tents an' the Kid cooked up the beans. Off to the west the sun set over some distant snow-capped mountains. She was gonna be a cold night.

Sure enough it was cold next mornin', so we had our beans while still in our bedrolls - luxury. Half way thru the feed we sensed we was being watched. Feelin' for our weapons we slowly peered outa the tent. Silhouetted on the skyline was the one thing we didn't wanna see - injuns! With growing apprehension we watched them approach. Eventually their chief hailed us, an' a short halting conversation followed....the whole time the Kid fingered his Winchester. The injuns moved after a while, and we saddled up fast. Didn't want no more meetings like that.

The lie of the country took us north, pickin' our way over a sawtooth ridge an' then veering northwest along some high ground to a low mesa several miles off. The area round here was mean, lotsabluffs, shingle bluffs and canyons - not much good for cattle.

We got off the mesa some time after a break for some more beans. The distant snow-capped mountains stood out clearly and we could see a large lake off to the north and more mountains to the southwest - probably better cattle country than this place too.

Droppin' off the mesa into the canyon below we almost managed to get lost in some mean weed but Hoss an' I found a route. We eventually ended up at an abandoned homestead. An derelict sign, 'Kelly Knight', creaked in the breeze. Wierd name but a roof I s'pose. Quickdraw cooked up the beans that night, crackin' jokes the whole time.

The climb outta the canyon the next mornin' was long an' hard. I plodded out ahead tryin' to pick up our ground trail of a few days previous. 'Draw, and the Kid, who was havin' trouble with his mount were next. Hoss bought up the rear. Eventually we picked up an old trail and followed it to an old wagon train campsite - time for a break.

The pace picked up a mite from here on. Rangiwahia stockade was close now an' we kept seein' recent trails an' increasin' numbers of wagon trains. Past the stockade an' down to the canyon. First stop was Kimberly stockade for a bit of the local liquor, then back to Fort Hunter. One thing was for sure, that country was no good for cattle!

Them good ol' boys:	Grant 'Bullet' Harper
	Terry 'Codcomol Kid' Patterson
	Simon'Quikdraw' Johnson
	Grant 'Hoss'Singleton

The injuns and wagon trains: Tararua T.C., and other assorted loopies.

Grant Harper