Chapter IV.

Alety at Tarawera—all Aboard Again—a Promise (only) of Fine Weather—Magnificent Scenery—the Nunnery—Volcanic Rocks—the Superficial Pumice—no Bush Buried by it—another Climb—a Double Waterfall—Te Runanga—open Country.

There was a sound of revelry that night, [unclear: r] Tarawera's host had gathered then the [unclear: auty] and the chivalry of the locality, and [unclear: ight] the kerosene shone on one "young [unclear: tly,"] several growing girls, and some [unclear: alf]-dozen men, who tripped the light [unclear: ntastic] toe for a couple of hours to the [unclear: usic] of a concertina with heavy [unclear: atertight] obligato. "Sets" were the [unclear: der] of the night, and the [unclear: popular] Lancers" was got through, with the [unclear: elp] of a card of instructions and a [unclear: system] trial-and-error. Song alternated with [unclear: nce], and all being blessed with voices, [unclear: ything] like a rousing chorus was welcome, anything without a chorus was [unclear: ta-oed],—to judge from the programme, [unclear: eing] in Rome I ought to have done as [unclear: ome] did, perhaps; but habit and fatigue [unclear: ere] both obstacles in the way of accepting [unclear: n] invitation to join the giddy throng.

At 6 a.m. next day I was roused to a sub- [unclear: antial] breakfast, and promises of a finer [unclear: ay] than the previous one. The [unclear: actuality] the breakfast there was no mistake about, [unclear: e] promises were destined not to be realised, [unclear: t] 7 a.m. with my baggage increased by a [unclear: lky] parcel of sandwiches for lunch at midday, we resumed the journey, with a fresh [unclear: am] of five, ready to go for anything, with anything, anywhere, to judge by their Agerness to start. Fortunately the rain which came down later held off for an hour, [unclear: nd] allowed mo to see the most beautiful [unclear: enery] along the route. After leaving the [unclear: illage], and a climb over a rough spur, the [unclear: ad] takes to the valley of the Waipunga [unclear: r] a dozen miles or so, but so rugged a [unclear: alley] is it that several times the road has had to be carried high up the hill sides, then down again to the level of the pumice terrace, the remnant of what was once an even bed filling the valley to a considerable depth, but is now a mere fringe that the Waipunga has spared, for the present. The steep-sided valley, presenting thousands of narrow ravines and precipitous spurs and jutting peaks, all heavily clad with bush, is a grand sight, and the road winds into and out of picturesque nooks without number. Frequent glimpses are obtained of the river, black from the deep shade of the trees in the short still reaches, whitened plentifully between them by dashing itself into foam on its rough bouldery bed. The trees—trunks, boughs, branches, twigs and foliage—are half hidden by growths of creepers and mosses and lichens until green gives place to yellows and grays over large patches. And if the scene is beautiful as a whole, no less so are the nearer details. Under the large trees grow an immense variety of shrubs, and beneath these the soil is hidden by ferns and mosses, toi-toi, and I know not what else of luxuriant plants.—But my pen is utterly unequal to the task of describing this beautiful district, and I will allow it to court failure no further.

A pretty little nook, in which the road crosses the river, is known as the "Nunnery," because here during the war 500 Maori women—all young and beautiful and accomplished as usual—were stored out of harm's way, to wait till the clouds rolled by. The spot will be for ever hallowed by such a memory, and is no worse feeding ground for dairy stock on that account. page 10 The roughness of the country made necessary remarkable feats in telegraph construction. Some of the spans of wire are of great length, and how they were ever erected is a marvel. A few Maori homes,—scarcely homesteads—are scattered along the road, with small clearings about them. Some clearings in progress were in the manner of clearing them quite new to me. Instead of felling the trees, the natives had clambered into them and tomahawked off the small branches, leaving the trunks and larger branches to sail for extinction under bare poles. I suppose this was the native fashion of clearing before axes were known to them, and it is not a bad fashion either in small bush. The cuttings show—what the traveller will see plenty of thenceforward—pumice gravels in terraces along the bottom of the valley, blue slaty rocky above the terraces, and presently a bold outcrop of dark blue volcanic rock makes a bit of as rough road pavement as one need care to be jolted over. And over all is spread a pall of small pumice chips, wind-borne from some great outburst, say of Tongariro. This bed is the continuation of the dust bed at Napier, in all probability. For many miles on either side of Tarawera it is composed of chips, flattish for the most part, and ranging up to the size of a sixpence, with very little dust amongst it, and as nearly as I could judge—it is not easy to tell the true depth on a hill-side—about three feet thick. Some few miles beyond Tarawera the deposit is varied by the appearance, nearly in the centre of it, of a bed of fine dust six to eight inches thick, which is so compact as to suggest that it fell as mud, such as overwhelmed Te Wairoa the other day. I looked carefully to discover traces of timber destroyed and buried by the fall of the yolcanic shower, but except in one small spot, and in that instance not certainly, not a sign of the ground having been bush-covered is visible. Had it been, signs could not be wanting. The quantity of charred wood in the older alluvial pumice of the terraces shows that there had been bush in the country somewhere. That a long time has elapsed since that smothering visitation is proved by the growth and decay of generations of timber trees upon it, to say nothing of the time that must have been required to weather down the glassy material into a soil capable of supporting any vegetation at all. Possibly, however, a coating of fertile dust fell over all, and gave wind-borne seeds and spores a chance to germinate successfully at once. Still, an incalculable time must have been required to permit such a large variety of trees and shrubs and plants of all kinds to make themselves so thoroughly at home over so wide an area as that dust-storm buried.

The Waipunga has a very [unclear: rapid] down the valley, aided by [unclear: numerous] cades, and the road not only rises [unclear: with] river, but mounts high above it, [unclear: uni] the Pakaranui hill it reaches by a [unclear: stee] zigzag course, an altitude little [unclear: less] that of Te Harato. On the further [unclear: si] the hill the country becomes more [unclear: open] bush retreating to the hill-tops. [unclear: D] the descent, a cascade is visible, [unclear: and] well worth while to leave the [unclear: coach] scamper down the hill to get a [unclear: closer] For the cascade is but the [unclear: tumbling] small creek, while close beside [unclear: it,] hidden from view from the road, is [unclear: a] larger one, in which the [unclear: Waipunga] goes headlong over the same rock [unclear: fa] handsome style. The rock is one [unclear: of] numerous lava streams or dykes [unclear: that] tersect the country hereabouts, [unclear: and] wild confusion of the massive [unclear: pris] (but not "columnar") blocks into [unclear: whi] is split up, around the basin [unclear: the] plunges into amid a cloud of [unclear: spray,] beautiful vegetation in the interstice the rocks, and the double fall, [unclear: make] picture that an artist might linger over a week. To see it properly, one [unclear: sh] have time and patience and [unclear: nerve] descend to the riverbed below the [unclear: f] but the first condition is impossible [unclear: t] ordinary traveller, who must be content gaze at the scene from above.

About 10 a.m. we again [unclear: renewed] relations with a branch of the [unclear: Waip] river, not now the brawling stream [unclear: it] comes below the falls, but a gentle [unclear: ri] flowing in a narrow gully it has [unclear: exca] in the pumice drift, which is [unclear: plen] spotted with chunks and chips of [unclear: ch] wood. Numerous narrow, [unclear: well-de] terraces show various levels at [unclear: whic] stream ran at former periods. [unclear: Beside] stream stands a roadman's house, [unclear: for] a constabulary post, known and marked the maps as Te Runanga. The road lows the course of the stream until larger portion of it disappears—that is—through a miniature gorge, [unclear: and] crossing by the way two or three [unclear: bs] solid blue igneous rock, it [unclear: mounts] narrow branch to the top of a level [unclear: d] pumice that stretches from rounded [unclear: hi] hill on either side, a mile or so in [unclear: v] The drive up this watercourse [unclear: affor] new pleasure, as it was the first [unclear: nat] grassed country we had passed [unclear: thru] Tussocks all over, "nigger-heads," [unclear: to] and koromiko in the creek, and the [unclear: p] showing in the banks and cuttings [unclear: l] river gravel,—I could have fancied [unclear: m] in the less "sunny south" of [unclear: Canter] Another but very brief pleasure was [unclear: af] by a distinct gleam of sunshine [unclear: bre] through the clouds upon us,—the [unclear: first,] the last, during the journey up and [unclear: d]