ROAD TO THE WEST COAST VIA LAKE WANAKA.

THE following Report is published for general information.

FREDERICK WALKER,
Provincial Secretary.

Gold Fields Department,
Secretary’s Office,
Dunedin, 25th Oct., 1865..

To Frederick Walker, Esq., M.P.C.,
Provincial Secretary,

SIR— I have the honor to forward the following Report of the Exploration, undertaken in accordance with the instructions of the Government, in search of a practicable line of road to the West Coast, via Lake Wanaka.

I started from Clyde (Dunstan) on August 28th, accompanied by Mr Coates, Mining Surveyor, and three men, with two mules and two horses, arriving at Newcastle on 30th. Here I met Hai-Mon:re-Weti—better known as Maori Jack—and engaged him for the expedition. Owing to the straying of the animals, we were detained at Newcastle till the evening, when I at once dispatched them, with three of the party, by the land route, round the west side of the lake, with instructions to meet me on the following day at Mr Thompson’s, Messrs Stuart and Kinross’s station; and I proceeded with Mr Coates and one of the men to the foot of the lake, where I had engaged a four-oared boat to convey the stores, &c., which were kindly carted to the point of embarkation by Mr Carter, of Messrs Wilkin and Thomson’s station. The following morning we ran up to Mr Thompson’s, with a light but fair wind, meeting the land party who arrived late in the afternoon. The up-track from the station was covered with snow and impassable; but Mr Thompson suggested that we might find a new track by taking the animals over a lower shoulder of the mountains, and cutting through a patch of bush beyond. I therefore sent on the land party by the route indicated, and started with the others in the boat, for a point about five miles distant, intending to cut through the bush back to the foot of the precipitous spur by which the horses, &c., would have to descend to the margin of the Lake. Mr Thompson with two of his men came off in his own boat. But before we had proceeded far, rotary wreaths of spray, rising high in the air, came whirling down upon us, and were followed by a thin white smoke like mist which rapidly drifted past, concealing the adjacent mountains from our view. A strong northerly wind blew in sudden and capricious gusts, during the intensity of which the surface of the Lake was covered with foam as in a white squall, and between the gusts the waves rose in huge rollers, threatening to swamp the boat. Against this tempest all the exertions of boatmen availed nothing, and after many ineffectual struggles we were compelled to turn back and run for shelter behind the bush, where we obtained ashore about half-a-mile above its commencement, Mr Thompson landing lower down. Shortly after that gentleman came up and informed us that a track could be made to the point where we then were. Setting all hands to work we quickly cut and cleared a way through for the animals—a task in which Mr Thompson personally aided and guided the party, and we thus brought all safely through it being intended for the Lake traffic. Next day we continued our journey, crossing the river on a shallow bar, about four miles above the Huts; along the west bank, till the forest closed in on both sides a little below the junction of the Blue River. To avoid this stream, we re-crossed the Makaroro—proceeding along the margin of the river, until compelled to enter the bush. Here we found a recently-cut track, terminating above the river at a tree, marked "M’K." I naturally supposed this to be one of Mr M’Kerrow’s marks; but on my return, I was informed that the track was cut by Mr O’Neill’s party, the initials representing the names of two of his men. Endeavoring to continue in the direction of the track, we cut into the bush for about a mile; but were seriously impeded by the heavy snow, the weight of which had bent down the branches and young timber to the earth. The scrub becoming more dense, with no appearance of any outlet, (although Jack ascended a loftier tree in the hope of discovering open country), and night-fall also approaching, we returned to the river, and cleared a road along the bank till we reached a small open spot above the confluence of the Blue River—(Camp 2.)

Next day I sent the horses back to Clyde, and proceeded with the mules only, cutting our way through several small belts of the densest scrub I ever saw. Through the last of these we emerged into a fine grass flat about two

The following day it was impossible for the boat to proceed, the wind still blowing fiercely from the north and north-west; I, therefore, sent the land party forward and waited for a change. None occurred that day, but about midnight it began to rain, and the wind gradually decreased in violence. It was not, however, until 3 p.m. on the next day that we were able to effect a start from the place, which I named Windbound Bay. Before we had proceeded two miles, another squall, preceded and accompanied by heavy "rollers," came down from the north-west, compelling us to run in for shelter behind the Peninsula. Soon it began to rain, and dense fogs veiled the mountains from sight. The wind and the waves fell, and the storm was succeeded by a calm, in which we moved off and rowed steadily up the Lake, till about 5 p.m., when the wind began to blow from the south and increased in strength, and hoisting our square-sail to the breeze, we quickly concluded this portion of our journey, re-joining the land party about 8 o’clock at their camp, on Manuka Flat, near the mouth of the Makaroro. We had thus been five days traversing the waters of this small but treacherous lake, and an equal time had been spent by the land party in bringing round the unloaded horses and mules. It appeared to me, however, that the difficulties of the land route might be lessened at a small expense, if some of the worst places near the shore were rendered passable, so as to obviate the delay caused by the necessity which now exists of ascending the mountains, in order to head the ravines and broken ground.

A heavy fall of snow occurred during the night (5th September), so that in the morning we found the ground deeply covered. About 2 p.m., we crossed the Lake to the east bank of the Makaroro (more properly Manga-rua), sending the horses and mules round by the ford—half-a-mile up the river. One of the tents provided for the use of the party was so large and cumbersome that I left it in charge of the boatman (well-known in the neighborhood of the Lake by the sobriquet of "Yorkey"), taking with me only the smaller 8 by 10 tent, which I found amply sufficient for all purposes.

Immediately above the Lake, the fine valley of the Makaroro opens out, and occasional small patches of bush appear in the sheltered hollows of the ranges and fringing the sides of the gullies. About three miles up the valley, commences the great forest, which extends continuously through the Southern Alps to the very sands of the beach on the West Coast. This immense forest consists principally of "black birch," or beech (fagus), interspersed, in the lower grounds, with totara, rimu, and pine trees, with a dense undergrowth of young trees and scrub, and clothes the mountain sides to the height (estimated) of 4500 feet. At its southern boundary, it is brought to a remarkably abrupt termination on both sides of the valley by deep fissures, or ravines, running in a continuous diagonal line across the mountains. These fissures are, seemingly, the result of volcanic action; and, beyond their well-defined line, which is almost mathematically correct—not a tree or shrub is seen, except in distant and occasional patches, as before stated.

Proceeding up the valley, we camped for the night at the Sawyers’ Huts, where a few men are employed in felling timber for the settlers and for sale; and also, when we were there, in building a 10-ton schooner, which has since been launched, it being intended for the Lake traffic. Next day we continued our journey, crossing the river on a shallow bar, about four miles above the Huts; along the west bank, till the forest closed in on both sides a little below the junction of the Blue River. To avoid this stream, we re-crossed the Makaroro—proceeding along the margin of the river, until compelled to enter the bush. Here we found a recently-cut track, terminating above the river at a tree, marked "M’K." I naturally supposed this to be one of Mr M’Kerrow’s marks; but on my return, I was informed that the track was cut by Mr O’Neill’s party, the initials representing the names of two of his men. Endeavoring to continue in the direction of the track, we cut into the bush for about a mile; but were seriously impeded by the heavy snow, the weight of which had bent down the branches and young timber to the earth. The scrub becoming more dense, with no appearance of any outlet, (although Jack ascended a loftier tree in the hope of discovering open country), and night-fall also approaching, we returned to the river, and cleared a road along the bank till we reached a small open spot above the confluence of the Blue River—(Camp 2.)

Next day I sent the horses back to Clyde, and proceeded with the mules only, cutting our way through several small belts of the densest scrub I ever saw. Through the last of these we emerged into a fine grass flat about two