56

The night was frosty and exceedingly cold; the thermometer, at half-past 6, on the Wednesday morning, ranged no higher than 38 deg.

We broke camp on Wednesday, at 8 a.m. Weather cloudy, with wind from north-west to Mount Cashel, at the top of the valley, bearing very nearly due south, which course we followed for about 10 miles, when we camped in the same spot on which Messrs. Weld and Clifford (whose track we had closely followed during the whole day) had previously rested. The wind shifted to the south-east in the evening, and during the night we had heavy rain, with occasional showers of sleet, the thermometer, at 8 p.m., standing at 38 deg.

The rain and sleet continued during the whole of the next day (Thursday), and we found that during the night the mountains around had become entirely covered with snow.

We remained in camp until Friday, the 13th, when the weather having cleared, we started at half-past 7, our course being about south-east to the foot of Mount Cashel; and from thence nearly south towards a spur of the Turk Mountain, where the river forks.

One branch here flows from the south-west for about 5 miles, which was called by the natives the Kopio-wemuku, and the other from the south-east. I was informed that the Kopio-wemuku takes its rise or mountains in the neighbourhood of the Rotorua.

At the foot of Mount Cashel we struck another camp of Messrs. Weld and Clifford, which, from its short distance from their last, I imagined was chosen as a central spot, from which they diverged for purposes of observation.

From the fork we followed the south-eastern branch of the river (which still retained the name of the Waima) for about a mile and a half, beyond which it flows through a rocky cañon for nearly three quarters of a mile in a general westerly direction.

We found the passage through this cañon somewhat difficult travelling, having to ford the river many times in order to avail ourselves of the best track through it. We camped at about 5 p.m. on a peninsula of rock jutting from the southern slopes of Mungatere Mountain, perpendicularly to the course of the river.

The night was excessively cold, the thermometer at 5 o’clock on the Saturday morning being 30 ½ deg. We left camp on the Saturday, at 8 a.m., and, still following the course of the river in a south-easterly direction for about 4 ½ miles, we reached low undulating ground, but proceeded 2 ½ miles further along the banks of the river, until we found it running through a valley between high rocky mountains having a W.S.W. direction, the course of the river being about E.N.E.

At the point at which it turned, we crossed some low grassy banks, the summit level of which above the river bed could not exceed 70 to 80 feet, and found ourselves upon a small plain, which (with the surrounding district) was called by the natives the Rangitahi or Ngutitahi.

We proceeded down the plain for about 4 miles, intending to camp as quickly as possible, as there was every appearance of wet.

Whilst preparing to camp, a strong south-east gale commenced, bringing with it heavy showers of snow, which fell so fast as to cover the ground to the depth of five inches in less than two hours.

Finding it impossible, in consequence of the violence of the storm, to set the tents, being entirely without firewood, and the cold being intense, we re-packed, and determined (although then after 4 o’clock, p.m.) to retrace our course to a spot where we had rested at mid-day, and at which we had found some dry wild Irishman.

This place my brother-in-law and myself reached about 6 o’clock, the darkness being only relieved by the snow on the ground; and after considerable trouble (having in fact to cut the driest pieces of wood we could find into shavings) we succeeded in building a fire. Strange and the natives came up some time after; one of the latter having shown strong signs of giving out, was with great difficulty prevented from lying down in the snow.

Being still unable to set our tents, we spread them over our blankets, and the following morning they were frozen as hard as boards.

On the Sunday morning, after thawing the tents, &c., before the fire, and finding the weather very treacherous and bitterly cold, we determined on returning to our camp in the cañon, where there was abundance of firewood. This we reached about 2 o’clock in the day, the snow resting so thickly on the ground, and more particularly on the grassy parts and on those spots where we had to make our way through wild Irishman, &c., as much to impede us.

I had begun to suspect, from the very unsatisfactory replies given to my questions by the native, Napera, that he was not too well acquainted with the road; but in the course of the Monday afternoon he positively and earnestly assured me that, by the road he proposed following, we should reach Kaiapoi in three or four days.

Relying upon his repeated assurances to this effect, I determined, notwithstanding the unpleasant nature of the weather, and