Journey to Westland by Arthur's Pass, Returning by Browning's Pass. October, 1865.

Although the road over Arthur's Pass was pushed on all along the whole line with such energy as never before had been witnessed in the Colony, there was considerable dissatisfaction expressed in the Province that a road was not at once constructed over Browning's Pass at the head of the Wilberforce, notwithstanding that several Engineers had reported as to this alpine saddle being too high and unsuitable for the purpose. Their views were considered to have been biassed for some reason or other. The Secretary for Public Works therefore instructed me to visit both Passes, to report generally upon their physical features, and to take also a number of altitude observations with the barometer. In order to secure the greatest accuracy, three Aneroid barometers which I took with me were compared by Mr. R. L. Holmes, Provincial Meteorologist, regularly during four weeks, with the standard barometer in the Christchurch station, with which they were found to agree very closely. One of them was compensated for temperature, and found to work in the field very well, to an altitude of about 1800 feet, above which its readings were too high, and consequently of no value; whilst the two other instruments not only worked admirably together during the whole journey, and in all situations up to 5000 feet, but when returning, agreed with the Christchurch standard barometer within 2-100ths of an inch.

After these necessary preparations, I left Christchurch on October 2nd, to reach the West Coast by first visiting Arthur's Pass. I was accompanied by my friend Mr. R. L. Holmes, who had been my companion on my first journey across the Southern Alps, and by whose energy and perseverance the main objects of my journey were much furthered.

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The road from Christchurch to Porter's Pass was much enlivened by a number of diggers travelling to Hokitika, as well as by many large drays taking provisions, tools, powder, &c., as far as the foot of Arthur's Pass. After having made a number of observations on Porter's Pass, we continued our journey, and found that the road in its worst places had already been much improved by the numerous workmen stationed all along this line. Crossing Golding's Saddle from the Cass plains to the Upper Waimakariri we were already able to follow, for several miles, the new road, blasted along the mountain side, after which we were obliged to take the dog-cart into the riverbed as far as the Bealey, which gave considerable trouble, owing to the large boulders and the numerous channels to be continually crossed. Of the rest of the road along the mountain side, only about half the distance had been finished to a breadth of three feet, by which we took the other horses. Great activity reigned everywhere, the electric telegraph had already been finished as far as Lake Pearson, whilst the posts and wire were on the ground as far as the Bealey. The view obtained from this most picturesque road along the precipitous high ranges and the passage of which to the new comer seemed fraught with danger, is very beautiful. Deep below the road appeared the bed of the Waimakariri, with its numerous meandering channels, here and there small groves of beech trees forming a fine foreground to the grand landscape. The eye followed the broad river-bed far into the central chain, the alpine summits of which, covered with perpetual snow, rose high into the air; while the wild rocky buttresses, amongst and along which the road had to be carried, offered an additional charm to the whole picture. The numerous rock cuttings were particularly welcome to the geologist, as presenting a series of very fine and clear sections, in which the structure of the alpine region could be well studied. Before we reached the spot whence it was intended that the road should intersect the Waimakariri, we had to cross two branches of the river, which here sets against rocky and nearly perpendicular cliffs, along which we observed a number of men busily engaged blasting out the road. On October 6th we reached the newly founded township of Bealey, situated on the large shinglefan which the tributary of the same name has advanced to a considerable distance into the bed of the main river. Several houses had been built, either constructed from logs, or covered with zinc or weatherboards, which, together with a good array of tents, indicated that a number of people had already congregated here. In fact, there were more than a hundred inhabitants who intended to settle in that locality page 109whilst a considerable number of diggers and navvies passing to-and-fro made it their usual resting-place. At the same time, several parties of sawyers were also at work, preparing timber for a number of buildings still to be erected.

For a day we were occupied with taking a number of barometrical observations, and left on October 8th for the Pass, in company with Mr. Edwin Blake, one of the Engineers in charge. Following the broad shingle-bed of the Bealey, and crossing and re-crossing its clear water, I enjoyed very much the contemplation of the beautiful landscape around us. On both sides and in front of us rose fine mountain peaks, possessing magnificent outlines; but the effect was still heightened by the existence of luxurious Fagus forest, which not only clothed the mountain sides for more than two thousand feet above the valley, but also formed charming groves in the latter. After five miles, we reached Mr. Smith, the contractor's camp at the entrance of the Bealey gorge; here great activity reigned, and the principal work of blasting in order to ascend Arthur's Pass, had already considerably advanced. We now followed the road to the summit of the Pass formed in the lower portion in the deep gorge of the Bealey, and as at one spot the bridge across it was not yet finished, a number of workmen carried my dog-cart across. It would be impossible to describe in detail the grandeur of the scenery around us, as we slowly ascended to the summit of the Pass, and gradually exchanged the beech forest, which now had become dwarfish and covered with Usnea barbata (that peculiar pendant greenish white lichen) with the varied and beautiful sub-alpine vegetation of New Zealand. The Bealey had also become a wild mountain torrent, tumbling its foaming waters over large blocks of stone lying in its bed, and shut in by high rocky cliffs, where from every crevice vegetable life had sprung into existence. High above us, Mount Rolleston with its remarkably grand form, rose on our left side, harbouring large snowfields on its flanks, whilst on the opposite side of the valley several fine waterfalls hung on the rocky mountain sides. On the Pass itself, where the road had been blasted through large angular blocks of rock, mostly derived from morainic acccumulations, a rich and varied flora surrounded us, amongst which the Nene (Dracophyllum Traversii, Hooker fil.) a small palm-like tree, belonging to the Ericeœ, and growing only on our low alpine passes, and the Ranunculus Lyallii, Hooker fil. are the most remarkable.

Having made a number of barometrical observations, we descended about a thousand feet to the camp of Mr. Wright, the con-page 110tractor for the work on the northern side of the Pass. In descending, several conspicuous additions to the vegetation observed on the southern face of the Pass were met with, of which the Rata (Metrosideros lucida Menzies) forms the greatest ornament to the landscape, principally about Christmas time, when the whole mountain side, as seen from above, appears as one mass of bright scarlet flowers. In this camp we also met Dr. Stedman, who had been sent here by the Provincial Government to attend professionally, in case of accident or illness, amongst the numerous men at work upon these large and extensive works. I was now obliged to leave my dog-cart—the first which had ever crossed the Southern Alps—behind me, and continued my journey next day, packing my provisions and camp utensils. Descending into the gorge of the Otira, a wild alpine torrent, where we crossed over several newly constructed bridges, the magnificent scenery around us could not fail to make the deepest impression upon me, and which lost nothing of its glorious character by my having travelled shortly before amongst the highest mountains of the Southern Alps. The steepness of the mountains on both sides forming the gorge, the constant alternation between rocky precipices and luxuriant forest, large trees growing amongst perpendicular cliffs, wherever thin roots could penetrate, numerous small but charming cascades descending from both sides; below, the roaring mountain torrent, rushing down amongst huge blocks of rock, by which its passage was impeded; and above all, the deep blue sky of New Zealand—the whole forming a picture of indescribable grandeur and beauty. Numerous gangs of workmen were here occupied with blasting and road-making, and a few shanties, where provisions, fresh meat, and even Christchurch baked bread could be bought, had already been built between the rocky spurs. We were very fortunate in the weather when crossing, as this Pass, like all deep depressions in our alpine chains, is particularly subject to rain. The observations made during the progress of the work showed that, during the whole time there were scarcely three days in the week in which the men could proceed with the work, whilst in some months, the rainy weather was so continuous, that an average of one day and a half only in a week was obtained.

After four miles of this charming scenery, the valley opened, and we continued our journey over flats, covered with Olearia nitida, and ilicifolia, Veronica salicifolia, Leptospermum, some species of Coprosma, Panax, and others. Here I had the pleasure of meeting His Honor the Superintendent Mr. Samuel Bealey, and Mr. Edward page 111Jollie, the Provincial Secretary, who had come over from Christchurch to make themselves personally acquainted with the progress of the road. Arrived at the junction of the Otira with the Teramakau, I sent my horses back to meet me at the eastern foot of Browning's Pass, and continued my journey with another set of horses, which had come up from Hokitika to meet me here, and to convey my luggage to the western approaches of that last-mentioned Pass. For several days we were detained by heavy rain at the Taipo, and moreover were compelled to travel slowly, owing to the very bad state of the roads, which were only partly formed. In many places they were nothing more than deep channels of mire, interlaced with innumerable roots, in and above which a number of stems of trees and arborescent ferns were lying, and amongst which the horses had to pick their way. On the 14th of October we arrived at the Waimea, whence the road leads across the downs to the Kawhaka, a tributary of the Arahura, the whole country being the whole way covered with most luxuriant forest, consisting generally of pines, amongst which the numerous fern trees raised their graceful crowns. This is one of the finest portions of the West Coast road, and on a favourable day, the traveller who passes through this lovely country, cannot find terms adequate to describe his admiration or to express his delight. However, in those days, travelling along these tracks was a very arduous task indeed. Everywhere road parties were at work clearing a broad belt of forest away, and as the rainy weather continued, it was often with some difficulty that we managed to get the pack-horses along.

On the 18th of October we reached Hokitika, where, in my old quarters in the Government Camp, I found a hospitable welcome. After having paid a visit to the Totara diggings and to Lake Mahinapua, south of Hokitika, which owes its origin to morainic accumulations on its western shore, I prepared myself for the return journey by Browning's Pass. We left Hokitika on the 25th of October, crossed the river in a punt, and followed the road for nearly seven miles along its left bank, travelling mostly on alluvial terraces of quarternary origin, generally covered with Ake-ake bushes (Olearia nitida.) In order to visit the gold workings at and near Kanieri township, I crossed the river from Woodstock, and descended several of the shafts, which offered me a good insight into the geological structure of the auriferous beds, a subject to which I shall return in the chapter on the geology of the West Coast.

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East of Woodstock—a small mining township—the road traverses a fine pine forest, which presented some difficulties for the passage of the pack-horses. We crossed the river at what was called the "long ford"—easily passed by horses, a boat being in readiness for foot passengers. Thence, we followed the river to the junction of the Kokatahi, passing over low sandy ground, either flood channels or low terraces covered with Olearia, Veronica, Coriaria, Leptospermum, and similar shrub vegetation growing along river-beds. From here to the junction of the Styx the track passes for about eight miles through level country, called Sherrin's Run. Over the whole, small groves of shrubs of the same character grow, with numerous patches of grass between them, intersected by small water-courses. A number of New Zealand quail (Coturnix Novœ Zealandiœ) rose before us, having till then been very little disturbed, but I understand they have long since become exterminated in that locality, as well as almost everywhere else in New Zealand.

The same evening we camped near the entrance of the Styx valley into the Hokitika plains, and had a magnificent view of the high ranges before us, of which the summits were still deeply covered with snow, whilst the numerous sugarloaf-like hills in the foreground told distinctly the history of the district. Entering next morning the valley of the Styx, now flowing between the ranges, numerous natural sections made me well acquainted with the geology of the district. The path leads for several miles along or in the river-bed, where we had to cross and re-cross, which was rather unpleasant, owing to the large boulders and the swift current; we then reached a bridle-path, cut on the left bank through the forest, where travelling was comparatively easy. We now crossed a huge moraine, stretching across the valley, and consisting principally of enormous blocks, representing all the rocks which form the summits of the Southern Alps. After a few miles, we had repeatedly to cross the river, now assuming the character of a mountain torrent. The fords were deep and rocky, with large blocks to pass over. The evening setting in, we camped in a small gully, where, owing to the altitude now reached, the black beech (Fagus fusca. Hook. f.) was now the predominent tree. Starting with fine weather from the Hokitika plains, after advancing a few miles into the valley, rain and sleet began to fall, and continued with little intermission till next morning, when we started again to reach the "Wooded Saddle." The valley gradually lost its gorge-like character, and opened up, leading us to a small grassy flat, 1800 feet above the sea level, on which Ranunculus Lyallii stood in full flower.

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I had the pleasure of meeting here Mr. Malcolm Fraser, one of the Government District Surveyors (now Surveyor-General of Western Australia), who had charge of the road party working from here in both directions, and who kindly returned with me to his camp. A gentle ascent of about 800 feet through dense forest, changing towards the summit into thick sub-alpine scrub, brought us to the top of that first saddle. The road from the foot to the summit under the direction of Mr. M. Fraser was nearly finished, and offered fair travelling ground. The summit of the wooded saddle exhibits the same characteristics as Arthur's or Harper's Pass, and although I use the expression "wooded saddle," I think it very inappropriate, as it will convey an erroneous impression. The ground is covered with Sphagnum (swamp moss), grass and other herbaceous plants liking moist sub-alpine localities. Here and there small groves of sub-alpine shrubs, consisting of several species of Dracophyllum, Olearia, Panax, Veronica, &c., have sprung up on the drier spots, and cover both sides of the mountain slopes with a luxuriant growth, attracting the eye by the various and vivid tints of their rich foliage.

Some 80 feet below the summit of this first saddle Mr. Fraser's camp was situated, where we found a kind and hearty reception. Mr. Fraser having among his road party several miners who, four weeks before my arrival, had come over Browning's Pass, I endeavoured to prevail on some of them to return with me, to carry swags and provisions, but they all dreaded so much the journey, that I could only obtain the assistance of one of them, and the rest of my party had to be made up by some volunteers from his road gang. Starting the 28th of October, I kept for about a mile on Mr. Fraser's line, and descended afterwards into the bed of the Arahura to examine some auriferous ground near the junction of Griffith's Creek with the former river.

When starting from Hokitika, I was informed that the river, taking its rise on the western side of Browning's Pass, was the Taipo, by which name it was also designated by the discoverers of the Pass, but even then I was already under the impression that it would turn out to be the Arahura, and now, standing on its banks, I was quite certain I was right in my surmises. I had the opportunity of taking several bearings towards the head-waters of the Arahura on my various journeys, and from them I concluded that this river had its sources more towards south-east than the maps in my possession indicated and that it overlapped the sources of the northern branch of the page 114Kokatahi (Styx). From the banks of the Arahura, near the junction of the Kawhaka, I could observe that this river, after having passed the Lake Kanieri ranges, enters into a gorge amongst high mountains, where, without doubt, its course is deflected towards east-north-east, and then, turning at a sharp angle, will ultimately have a nearly northerly course. Had I not been so much pressed for time, I should certainly have devoted a few days to determining this fact, by following the river in question far enough to convince myself of its ultimate course. However, although my conclusions were much opposed at the time, further explorations have shown that my deductions were correct and that it is not the Taipo, but the Arahura, the principal sources of which are situated on Browning's Pass.

Having followed for a few hundred yards along the banks of the river, clothed with grass, we had again to take to the mountain side, covered with such dense vegetation, that travelling became slow and laborious. We passed several mountain torrents coming from Mount Sale, mostly in deep rocky defiles, forming a succession of cascades. Some of them were filled with avalanches, over which we had to find our way. After three hours of this laborious work we arrived at a larger mountain torrent, falling over a succession of often vertical cliffs, but then nearly filled with a large avalanche, where, owing to the great steepness of the talus of snow, and the smooth surface of the highly inclined rocky banks, we experienced some difficulty in bringing the men over. This the miner, who had previously been over the ground, pointed out to me as the Harman stream; and, as I expressed some doubts, he assured me of the correctness of his statement, by telling me that, before crossing the Pass, Mr. Greenlaw had kindly furnished them with a tracing of the road, and this was the most important river all the way they had crossed. Advancing more up the main valley, the vegetation now became more stunted and gnarled, and consequently our progress was still slower. Towards evening we arrived at the roches moutonnées, partly covered by old moraines which stretch below the junction of the Harman with the Arahura, across the valley. The rain, which had lasted without interruption the whole day, did not cease during the night. Fortunately there were many shrubs of Dracophyllum longifolium growing in this locality, which even in their green state burn freely, and which enable the traveller in those regions, so much exposed to rain, to light a fire with comparative ease. This plant has needle-shaped leaves, generally of a brownish tint, and small bell-shaped white flowers. It page 115is generally called a native heath by the Europeans. As some of the bushes grow to a height of ten feet with thick branches, it offers wood enough to keep up a cheerful fire.

Next morning we started again in a pouring rain. After having crossed the highest point of the roches moutonnées, about 400 feet above the river, we had another piece of sub-alpine vegetation to cross, the density of which defies description. Working our way for half a mile through this thicket we arrived at an enormous avalanche coming from near the summit of Mount Sale and lying in a regular channel. This avalanche had been much larger, as was well shown when we descended it to the bed of the Arahura, just below the junction of the Harman stream, where in some places it formed a nearly perpendicular wall thirty to forty feet high. It was thus evident that shortly before, it had here filled the whole valleys of the Arahura and Harman to a great altitude, the gorges in which these rivers flow being then hidden altogether. That this channel, several hundred yards broad, is usually filled by avalanches, which fall repeatedly, was not only indicated by the configuration of the mountain side, but we were witnesses of another huge avalanche falling the next morning, when camped on the opposite side of the river, the thunder occasioned by it reverberating in the mountains. Guided by the miner, we followed, for a short distance the course of the Harman, climbing along the nearly perpendicular banks, through the close-growing vegetation, till he told me, looking at the large swollen torrent below us, that he did not recognise the country; but as I knew that our road must lead across that stream, I ordered the party at once to descend. On reaching the rocky banks of the river, now swollen and rushing with impetuosity amongst and over high rocks, the guide thought that he must be wrong, because when he and his companions passed here four weeks previously, they crossed no other water-course than the one we had passed the day before, and had seen no deep gorge like this; on the contrary, the whole country had been here covered with one uniform sheet of snow, on which they had walked across from Mr. Browning's flagstaff to the place we had left in the morning. It was thus clear that the whole deep gorge had been, for about 150 feet, filled up with snow, which had entirely obliterated the configuration of the country; and in looking up the river, in some places, remains of this huge avalanche were still visible in the form of snow bridges amongst the rocks. And the conviction forced itself upon me that a road, laid out in the way proposed by Mr. Browning, namely, to cross the Harman in this neigh-page 116bourhood, and to ascend the avalanche channel, would not only be destroyed by the fall of the avalanches, but be of no use whatever for several months in the year, besides endangering the lives of the passengers travelling that way. I therefore made it a rule to note carefully all the different avalanche channels, to be able to point out where danger might be expected, and, if possible, to avoid it altogether in laying out the road.

Fortunately for my purpose I travelled along this route during the time of the year when these physical features are most clearly defined, and I may be excused if, for that reason, I enter into this topic, which has no direct reference to the object of my journey. As before observed, the Harman from the continuous rain was very high, and we were only able to cross it with the assistance of a rope we had brought with us. We ascended on the other side and camped upon a small grassy flat close to one of Mr. Browning's poles. Incessant rain continued during the whole of the day and the early part of the night, changing towards morning into snow, but which fortunately was followed by a fine bright day. Our blankets, provisions, and nearly everything else being thoroughly saturated, we were occupied for the greater part of the morning drying them, and it was only towards noon we were able to proceed on our journey. For a short time we had to travel through sub-alpine vegetation, but soon the gorge opened, and though the Taipo was still high, we were enabled to ascend along its banks, crossing from side to side, and travelling on a shingle reach. Half a mile higher up the valley widened still more, grass and alpine herbaceous plants made their appearance, and we advanced rapidly towards the Pass. Shortly after leaving our camp we passed the remains of several large avalanches, still partly over-bridging the river, whilst in other instances they were cut through by the river, forming on both sides perpendicular walls of snow. For about a mile or a mile and a half above the junction with the Harman, the adjoining mountains possess such physical features, that the fall of avalanches from the western slopes of Mount Harman is prevented, whilst several steep water or avalanche channels descend from the opposite side of the Twin Peaks range. The remains of these avalanches indicated clearly that in many places the river-bed for a considerable time of the year is concealed by them. This supposition was confirmed by my companion, who had travelled a month before the same road, and who assured me that for a great distance they had been obliged to scramble over the snow. After having ascended this distance, deep gorges from page 117Mount Harman begin to reach the main river, in which everywhere huge avalanches were still lying. Some of them were of such enormous dimensions, that their remains will last till late in the summer. The opposite side of Twin Peaks range, showing a somewhat terraced appearance, was here more free from them, and will therefore offer better travelling ground. As the guide assured me that it was too late to cross the Pass that day, although it was only half-past one o'clock, we remained camped on this good sized flat, covered with blocks of stone, grass, and alpine plants, of which the magnificent Ranunculus Lyallii had just began to bud. We camped under a huge erratic block, and although only about 3200 feet above the level of the sea, snow was still lying deeply in most localities over this flat. Opposite our camp, an avalanche was not only filling the deep gorge in which it had descended, but it had invaded the main valley, and the river for some distance had disappeared under it. The clouds were lying low on the ranges, when next morning, October 31st, we prepared ourselves to cross the Pass. A number of Keas (the green mountain parrot), flying past our camp or sitting on the rocky ledges above, broke the stillness of nature with their plaintive notes. From our camp to the junction of the outlet of Lake Browning with the Twin Peaks creek, about half a mile, the right bank was covered with a succession of avalanches, under which the river was concealed in many places, whilst the lower part of the mountains on the left side of the valley was mostly free from snow, till at last, about 300 to 400 yards below that junction, the water had entirely disappeared, and valleys and hill-sides formed one continuous mass of snow from which rocky points rose here and there. The whole country presented to the guide such a different aspect, that when we arrived at that junction, instead of crossing over to the right bank? and following along the outlet of Lake Browning to the summit of the Pass, he took the valley of Twin Peaks Creek, at the same time assuring me that he did not at all recognise the country. The fine weather had unfortunately ceased, and dense mist enveloped us, so that we could not see 20 yards before us. He led us up a valley, which exhibits in its natural state a deep rocky gorge, but which now was so entirely filled with snow that it had rather the appearance of a wide open mountain valley slightly covered with snow. The snow being soft, we toiled forward here for two hours, sinking often up to our waists in it; and although the guide assured me that this was the right road, the compass and the direction he had taken convinced me that he was going astray. The clouds became every moment denser, so that we could scarcely see a few paces before us; so at last, observing page 118to our left that the mountains assumed soft downlike outlines, I refused to follow him any longer, and taking the lead, struck off towards the east. I soon had the pleasure of seeing the clouds becoming thinner, and of observing the mountains on the left side of the Wilberforce, with their brown vegetation, appear before me, and presently the valley itself with the Government camp came in sight far below us. The guide was leading us up the Twin Peaks, and the ground I had reached was that lying west of Lake Browning and some 600 feet above it. From the form of the basin in which Lake Browning lies, I could conclude that here the lake ought to be situated, although the enormous snow masses which were here accumulated obliterated all signs of it. After having crossed this snow plateau, we arrived at the Gap, where we had to descend. Here a wall of snow and ice, not only vertical but even overhanging, from 12 to 20 feet high, formed by snow drifts, had to be descended before we could reach the snowfields below it, for at least 200 to 300 feet, so steep that they could only be descended by cutting steps.

Having brought a rope and spade with us, we at once set to work cutting a channel back through this vertical wall until we reached the steep snow slope, and tying the first man who was working with the spade to the rope, and following him upon the stair-like steps, keeping the rope always tight, we descended slowly this steep upper part of the snowfields. Shortly after we had begun to cut through this perpendicular wall, which owing to its soft state did not offer any difficulty, we observed a large white flag hoisted up at Mr. Greenlaw's camp, and soon after we observed this gentleman with some of his men carrying spades, coming to our assistance, they appeared like tiny moving spots on the lower part of the snowfield. We were soon sitting on the snow, sliding down in a few minutes to the foot of the field about 1200 feet from the summit, where we were surrounded by shrubs and herbs in blossom, and breathing the soft spring air of the East Coast. A few rocks on the summit of the Pass rising above the snowfields, showed me, by the vegetation growing upon them, that we were in a truly alpine region; plants like the alpine spear grass Aciphylla Monroi, the Veronica epacridea, found near the summit of Mount Torlesse, could here be collected. The gorge-like character of all the valleys, and the atmospheric conditions prevailing here account easily for the enormous amount of snow which accumulates near this depression, so as not only to cover deeply all the summits, but also to collect in such masses on the declivities, as to give birth to such numerous page 119and large avalanches as were passed by me. And I may here add that many of them even in the highest Alps of Switzerland would be considered enormous. A few days before my arrival at Mr. Greenlaw's camp, one of his men was nearly killed by one of them coming from the summit of the Pass, and whilst we ascended the Twin Peaks Gorge, an avalanche fell from the western side, five minutes after we had passed the very spot.

After a short walk from the foot of the Pass we reached Camp Creek, where Mr. Greenlaw's camp, consisting of a well built blockhouse, was situated, and where we were most hospitably received. Mr. Greenlaw was in charge of the road party, which at the beginning of spring had been sent up to form a bridle-path over the Pass, but owing to the enormous accumulation of snow, he had not yet been able to do any work on the slopes of the mountain. In the meantime, a good bridle-track had been formed along the rocky banks of the Upper Wilberforce, which here is simply a mountain torrent. Although it was evident that it would take some considerable time before such a track over the Pass could be formed, owing to its great altitude and steep rocky nature, several of the sheep farmers on the Canterbury plains did not apparently think so, as we met several flocks of sheep, on our return journey, being already driven up, to be crossed over to the West Coast. Of course they had to return and wait for another season.

The difference of vegetation in such a short distance, and with such a slight difference in altitude—Mr. Greenlaw's camp being situated 3017 feet above the sea level, or 341 feet below the foot of the Pass—was most conspicuous. When I stood on the top of the Pass and looked down the valley of the Wilberforce, it being a dull day with an overcast sky, the whole vegetation assumed sombre brownish colours. Towards the evening the weather cleared up, the sun shone brightly, and the beautifully variegated tints of the sub-alpine vegetation displayed themselves in quite a different aspect, and appeared in all their splendour. There were some very large groves of nene (Dracophyllum traversii), surrounded by a great number of good sized shrubs of' Dracophyllum latifolium, conspicuous from their brownish green tints, but they only brought out more vividly the richness of colour and form of the other foliage surrounding us. I think I have already observed that this remarkable tree-like Dracophyllum (nene) grows only near or on the alpine passes, where the page 120moisture during the whole year is excessive. Next morning the party of roadmen, who had accompanied me, returned over the Pass, whilst in order to make another series of meteorological observations I remained another day at the camp; in the afternoon ascending Camp Creek for geological examination and for collecting plants. The rich alpine flora was already well advanced, many of the shrubs being covered with blossoms and flowers, and the whole air perfumed by their delicious scent. For about two miles Camp Creek has a nearly straight course, and forms a fine alpine valley; it then breaks up into a number of mountain torrents and cascades, many of them descending from Mount Greenlaw, a rugged mountain mass, closing the valley. In its lower portion it is covered with a luxuriant alpine vegetation, above which snowfields of considerable magnitude encircle its sides, whilst they in their turn are surmounted by nearly perpendicular rocky crags, several thousand feet high, only here and there allowing the snow to collect in smaller masses along the serrated summit.

On November 2nd we started on our return journey, although a heavy north-west storm raged with great fury. For about four miles the valley falls rapidly, numerous moraines crossing from side to side. In many of the smaller valleys or couleés on both sides, large avalanches were still lying. After crossing the Stewart branch near its junction, we continued our journey on a finely grassed flat, having the Waterfall range, exhibiting wild romantic forms, on our right hand, which well deseves that name, particularly during wet weather in spring. Three miles from Major Scott's station, we crossed the Wilberforce, and ascending the terraced banks continued our road through the longitudinal opening formed by the large isolated roches moutonnées, the Scott's Hills, which from here to the junction of the Harper with the Wilberforce, run along the left bank of the latter and the main range. The whole country showed clearly that it had undergone great glaciation; on the slopes of the main range as well as on the Scott's Hills, the effects of that glaciation [unclear: wss] well exhibited in numerous rock shelves, erratic blocks and remains of ancient moraines, although a number of huge alluvial fans or shingle cones, reaching sometimes far up the sides of the roches moutonnées, partly concealed these signs of the Great ice age. Towards evening, thoroughly drenched, we reached Major Scott's station, under whose hospitable roof, it took us some time to recover from the effects of the terrible storm which had chilled us so much that we could scarcely descend from the horses. During the whole night, the storm continued to rage without intermission and page 121with unabated vigour, but in the course of next morning, the weather cleared up and became truly magnificent. However, the River Harper (a large tributary of the Wilberforce) which had to be passed on our road, was so much swollen that it was impossible to cross it that day.

The view from Major Scott's station is really very striking. First, Lake Coleridge lying like a deep blue mirror amongst the curiously shaped ranges, formed the centre of the landscape. A number of high hills, which from their remarkably regular form, have aptly been designated Sugarloaves by the settlers, appear in several directions; they mostly rise to the north of the great depression in which Lake Coleridge is situated. Before visiting this part of the country, I had often heard of these Sugarloaves, which were described to me as extinct volcanoes, their usual conical shape having suggested such an explanation; but when crossing this region, it soon became evident to me that these striking forms were simply the result of the enormous glaciations the country had undergone, and that these so-called Sugarloaves were simply roches moutonnées standing in the bed of several large glacier branches, of which the great Rakaia glacier had here been formed. The River Harper having fallen sufficiently, next morning, to be crossed without danger, we started on our home journey, being piloted across its still high and muddy waters by Major Scott. We now followed the longitudinal depression running to the north of Lake Coleridge and parallel to it, of which the level is about three hundred feet above the latter. With every step, the effects of the enormous glaciations become more manifest, all mountains and hills have not only the roche moutonnée form, but glacier shelves at different altitudes and lying one above the other, are cut deeply into the hillsides. Some of these are so regular that the settlers have called them carriage roads, devil's highways, or by some similar epithets. Having passed several lagoons, either formed by old morainic accumulations, stretching across the valley, or by large shingle cones, we reached Lake Selfe (1962 feet), a charming spot, surrounded by small groves of Fagus forest and picturesque rocks. Several pretty waterfalls give animation to the peaceful seenery. Before a large valley crossing the longitudinal opening at right angles is reached, a succession of lagoons follows, entering Lake Coleridge six miles above its outlet. Here we camped for the night.

Next morning, November 5th, we again ascended to the same longitudinal valley, and, after passing a succession of lagoons and page 122ponds, reached at last the upper end of Lake Coleridge. Crossing the small ice-worn ridge, by which its shores are here formed, we entered the large Rakaia valley, where the glacial phenomena became more simple but of a still grander character. Before reaching the Hon. John Hall's station, we at last crossed the remnants of the lowest moraine wall, of which traces have been preserved, stretching from the eastern foot of Mount Hutt to the Hororata river, and forming a large semicircle with a radius of eight miles. On November 10th we reached town again, and, after calculating the principal altitudes along the whole route, from the numerous meteorological observations made by me, as well as from corresponding ones taken in Christchurch and Hokitika, I presented on November 18th my report on that journey to the Provincial Government, giving also an analysis of the altitudes obtained, a description of the principal features of the country examined, and my views as to the value of the two passes. This Report^* was laid before the Provincial Council on October 18th, and printed in Vol. XXIV. of the Journals of the Proceedings of the Provincial Council. Another report^† was furnished by me in December to the Secretary for Public Works, on the West Coast goldfields, principally in reference to that portion which might be used for agricultural and pastoral purposes. The latter was laid before the Provincial Council on December 19th, 1865, and printed in the same volume. The great floods in the rivers of the Canterbury plains at Christmas, 1865, during which a portion of the Waimakariri flood-waters entered the Avon, gave rise to several visits to that river, for the purpose of examining its bed and the ancient channels on the lower fan, and, although no written report was furnished, I was repeatedly consulted on [unclear: the] subject by the Provincial Government. A Board of Conservators was instituted, under whose superintendence such well-devised works, for the protection of the lower plains, were executed, that since then, no serious overflow has taken place.