The summer of 1885-6 was an exceptionally hot and trying one, much trouble being caused in Pigeon Bay by the spread and continuance of bush and grass fires. Just above and behind Annandale, Hay Brothers and men were out night and day for weeks, intermittently fighting fire. On that portion of their land known as "Holmes' Run"—so called because it is surrounded by Mr. Holmes' property—Hay Brothers had a painful experience. One day they went up there to clear out water-holes for the poor parched sheep. Fires were raging all around on Mr. Holmes' land, so special care was taken to put the horses in a safe place, well out of the way of the fire. But the wind suddenly changed and blew fiercely; and knowing what was likely to happen, Hay Brothers ran to catch their horses. They had them "rounded up" and almost caught, when a thick cloud of smoke blew in their faces and frightened the poor creatures, who galloped straight into the burning tussock and grass. In a few minutes three of them were severely burned—one so badly injured that it had to be put out of its misery at once: a sad task, as it was a favourite horse. After some months of careful treatment, the other two horses recovered.

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The autumn rains were welcome after the heat and drought; hut when in May and June the continuous rains caused floods in Okain's and other bays, considerable apprehension was felt as to the fate of roads and bridges, especially when our own large bridge was almost carried away by the force of the swollen waters. In July there was a cessation, but towards the end of the month it rained more heavily than ever, and continued until nearly the end of August.

This was the winter the North Island disaster occurred, when a number of lives were lost by the eruptions of Mount Tarawera. Dr. T. O. Guthrie and his wife, accompanied by Hannah and Edwin, paid a visit to the scene of that disaster a few weeks after it happened, and when they returned early in August gave us a vivid description of the utter desolation of the region round the centre of this terrible visitation. They were the first party with ladies who rode through that newly made wilderness of scoria and ashes. That "Wonderland" of New Zealand is famous still, although its greatest marvels—the Pink and White Terraces, which stood unique in their fairy-like beauty, the slow growth of ages—were swept away in one night. Thus the forces of nature, alternately creating and destroying, move on in their ceaseless workings; yet we can say "all is well," for "God hath fixed the bounds of our habitation."

As the rain continued day after day, a vague presentiment of coming trouble possessed our minds. We became instinctively watchful and wakeful, On Tuesday, 17th August, the creek behind the house came down the mountain side, a roaring torrent, bringing stones and trees with it that soon dammed up the culvert. In a few minutes our back-yard, wash-house, and dairy were flooded with muddy water, and all our efforts were needed to keep page 291it out of the house. Our men folk at once set to work to clear the channel—no easy task, as they stood knee-deep in the rushing water, the rain coming down in sheets. Before dark they got the obstructions removed, and all immediate danger of house and garden being flooded seemed over. Tom and Bob kept watch by turns all that night, so uneasy did they feel, and next morning—18th August—the rain streamed down heavily, while a strong easterly wind blew in cold from the sea.

The old dairy was found to be in such a state that, raining though it was, the men decided to pull it down at once. The mud and water had silted into it until it was nearly a foot deep, and the roof was more unsound than ever. We were in any case only waiting till the rain ceased to begin the erection of a new wash-house and dairy, the timber for which was lying ready. The first thing to be done before pulling it down was to transfer all the contents of the dairy—butter, hams, bacon, etc.,—to the store-room. The men were handing in these things, while the mistress and maids were putting them away, the children watching proceedings, when suddenly a dreadful bewildering noise filled the air. In an instant Hay Brothers were rushing through the house shouting, "run for your lives," each catching up a child as he ran.

The deafening roar heard above the noise of the elements and accompanied by violent shaking of the house was too awful to describe. But for the presence of mind of our brave men we should certainly all have perished. Before we had run many yards the first fall of earth had reached the homestead; this carried away the workshop, stable, cow-bales, men's house, dogs and their kennels, cart, dray, and wood-heap, bringing them all against the hack of the house. The force of the impact was such that the house was pushed off its foundations, and all the fires were at page 292once scattered, so that very soon the house was on fire. Before we reached the bridge, 150 yards distant, we were soaked through, and we all wore our very oldest garments! As we stood in the streaming rain, gazing at the destruction of our dear old home, our first conscious thought was heartfelt gratitude to God that we were all safe. Our men hurried us all to the store, and then some of them ran back, as we feared, to the house. From the store windows we watched, in fascinated horror, the second slip come down, and then the flames burst forth, as if in mad rivalry with the other destroying elements. In a few moments Annandale was a blazing heap of ruins in the midst of a sea of mud. The store was full of frightened people, amongst whom were Mrs. J. Hay, her baby boy (Campbell) and servant; they had fled from the Glen in terrified haste, fearing to be overtaken there too—and indeed it seemed a more likely place than ours for such a disaster to happen. How to get to the hotel? was the next question. The road was so blocked with small slips as to be quite impassable (for a week previously a boat had been used to convey passengers from coach to steamer), and the sea was more than usually rough. We women and the children had to be carried by our men-folk across the small creek—which was rushing over the road in a torrent, to the hotel boat, which had been brought to the break-water for us. We entered it in fear and trembling, and for half-an hour we wore exposed to the fury of the wind and waves, that constantly threatened to swamp our small boat. Fortunately the distance was short, rather under a mile, but our men had to strain every nerve to pull against wind and tide—to say nothing of sea! This journey had to be repeated three times, a heavy task for our brave men.

Our first care was to dry and warm the poor children, who were quiet and bravo to a wonderful degree, even our page 293darling baby boy understanding that he must be good! How nearly we had lost him we realized when James told us that as he ran through the house he pushed open the spring-door of the store-room (which Guthrie could not open from the inside), and found the child on his knees by the sugar bin, his little hands and mouth busy!

The hotel people were most kind, but their powers were sorely taxed, as crowds of panic-stricken people had flocked to them for shelter—many who need not have left their homes. Soon after we reached the hotel, viz., at 12 o'clock, three hours after the first slip came down, we saw the fourth, and largest of all, come crashing down with the hideous roar we knew so well. This carried away the wool-shed and its contents bodily into the creek and paddock beyond, and swept the burning wreckage of the house into the sea, leaving a smooth expanse of liquid mud over the spot where for fully forty years the Annandale homestead had stood.

The poor dogs, pigs and fowls had no chance for their lives, though one pig did escape, and a dog, which was almost smothered in the first slip, was set free by the next, emerging from the mud in a pitiable plight. It recovered and did good work afterwards; that and another one (which Hay Brothers managed to rescue) were the only two of their fourteen well-trained sheep dogs they ever saw again. The estimated loss of sheep in the slip was about 60; fortunately no horses or cattle perished.

As we realized what this calamity meant to us—and as the weeks passed on we did so more and more keenly—our uppermost feeling was gratitude to God for saving our dear old mother the heart-break it would have been to her to see the fate of the old home she had loved so well, by removing her to a "better, that is an Heavenly one," before the disaster occurred.

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We may as well supplement our own description, which is entirely from memory, by quoting one or two extracts from the daily papers of that time, which gave minute particulars of the disaster, as related graphically by Hay Brothers. We shall only omit some details already given. The Canterbury Times of 20th August, 1886, says:—

" Mr. Thomas Hay" (who was interviewed by the Canterbury Times reporter) "continued"—after describing the warning of the day before, as already related—"We were on the look-out; on hearing a specially loud noise I jumped out and saw the landslip coming. It was half a mile away when I saw it, and I shouted as loudly as I could for all hands to 'run for their lives.' My eldest boy, Ebbie, was standing in the doorway of the men's house, about 30 ft. from me. He was the first to run, and made straight down to the bridge. All the men rushed into the house at the back door. The shepherd took Aggie, the youngest girl, my brother Robert and Mr. Husband, a friend who was staying with us, took Mrs. Hay, each holding one of her arms, and thus they brought her out. My eldest girl, Annie, ran with the two servant girls. My brother James had just arrived from his own place, the Glen, and had put his letters into the mail-bag and joined us outside. He found my youngest boy, Guthrie, in the store-room at the sugar-bin, and he took him up in his arms and ran for it. All this time I was going through the house, up one stair along the top storey, calling out for all to clear at once, and down the other stair to make sure nobody had been left behind. When I got into the road (lane, we call it), Ebbie, who had been first to run, was just turning into the main road, 150 yards away. He had boon running all the time, so you can calculate how quickly all I have described had happened.

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"My brother Edwin saw the gardener standing in the doorway of the men's house, and he ran towards him, beckoning him to run down to the road. I was just behind him, and I was the last to leave. He had been gone a distance of about three chains when the house he had been standing in went all to pieces. I ran as fast as I could, and got spattered on my back as I ran. When I got opposite the stockyard gate I saw the whole of the cowsheds, 80 ft. in length, roll over in the yard on my right. The very substantial stock-yard fencing, the posts of which were 15 in. thick, checked the progress of the landslip till I got out of the road.

"In the confusion the others, when we got on to the bridge, missed me as I was hurrying my wife and children over to Robinson's store to get them out of the rain. My brothers went back to the house to look for me, and went through the house calling loudly, leaving one outside to give the alarm if another slip should come. They managed to let a dog adrift that was jammed against the back door of the house. I followed them back and went close up to the house, but we reckoned it unsafe to remain or try to get anything out of the house. We had no sooner got away than down came the second slip, and jammed against the wool-shed. Then the flames burst forth. We could see the smoke coming out, and the house gradually kindled. That would be half-past 9 o'clock—no later. The house kept burning on against the wind. Then the third slip came down. We began then to make preparations for our future accommodation. We took three boatloads of our own people and others to the hotel, and got them settled there, doing as much for them as we could under the circumstances.

"About 12 o'clock, as my brother Edwin was going up to Mr. Robertson's—a neighbour who lived near the hotel—page 296for dry socks and clothes, there came the biggest slip of all, which obliterated everything, rushing it all into the sea, where broken bits of the house continued to smoke for some time. This slip took the wool-shed bodily, just as it had been left into the creek. The force with which it carried the wool shed and accumulated stuff threw every drop of water out of the creek to a height of some hundreds of feet, and some of the bags of grass-seed which had been in the shed were thrown a distance of five chains right against the opposite terrace. There was a big post fifteen inches square and ten feet long thus thrown with some eight or ten bags of grass-seed. This slip stopped the creek for a time, forcing the water to run over the bridge, making a tremendous flood until the water presently cut its way clear. All the afternoon small slips came down… To give you some idea of the power of the landslip, I might tell you we picked our safe up yesterday on the beach, half way between high and low water mark, and about a couple of chains from the creek. It weighs half a ton, I should think, for it took four or five men to roll it over. The big posts of the stock-yard, which were as thick as your body, were literally pulled out of the ground and swept away, just as you would clear the pieces off the chess-board. My brother timed the fall of the third slip. I reckon that the hill is about 1,500 ft. high, and about a mile away, and my brother found the slip was just a minute and a half from the time it started till it reached the sea. The biggest of all came quicker than that. Three or four acres of the sea must have been filled up."

James Hay, on being interviewed by the Press, said:—

"We had been on the look-out for slips, and therefore were to some extent prepared. Those in the house ran for their lives, and as I went at top speed towards the house to aid I looked up. There above me, coming down the page 297mountain side at railroad speed, was a wall of earth some forty or fifty feet high, throwing up as it came, high in the air, a kind of spray of mud. I thought at first it was an eruption. I rushed into the house to see if all were out, and found the little boy, about two years old, in the store-room eating the sugar. As I caught him up and turned to run, I heard the slip coming, and had hardly got away when it came with a crash and a roar right on to the house, which then took fire and burned for quite two hours. The two eldest of the youngsters ran themselves, and all the others managed to get out and away on to the bridge over the creek just in time.

"What was the noise like? says Mr. Hay, in answer to a question. Well, I can hardly say—it was a most unearthly noise, and so loud that all the people in the Bay heard it and ran out of their houses, thinking it was an eruption on the mountain, and that an earthquake was about to take place. …

"To show how things were scattered, we found my brother's purse containing £18 down by low water mark; this had been placed in a drawer in his bedroom. We also found the kitchen stove, with the kettle on it, near the safe on the beach."

Then follows a description of "What the slip looked like," by one of the Press reporters:—

"From where I stood, looking up the mountain, some 1,500 ft. high, the whole of the centre of the face from top to bottom was scarred with a great wide rent. At the top was a cup-like crater, as if the top of the mountain had fallen in and pushed out the soil underneath. With the cloud of wist hovering about the top of the hill, and the wide rent made more conspicuous by the chocolate colour of the soil, there seemed to me to be a singular resemblance to the rent in Tarawera—a resemblance which the page 298steam-like appearance of the mist made more complete. This rent down which the millions of tons of soil, which overwhelmed Annandale, travelled on that eventful morning with lightning speed, is about 100 to 150 yds. wide. The hill behind the spot where the house stood is steep all the way up, but it rises steeper near the top. A clump of blue gums, slightly to the right of the track of the slip, and therefore not exposed to the full force of it, one solitary walnut tree, and another blue gum near the bottom of the garden facing the road, are all that remain of a highly cultivated fruit and flower garden and ten buildings, including a thirteen-roomed house and large wool-shed.

"The site occupied by these now resembles nothing so much as a newly-ploughed field with fragments of debris of all kinds mixed in the soil. At the spot where the house stood there is now from fifteen to twenty feet of earth piled up, and at the bottom, near the road, it is some three or four feet deep. Beyond this latter, and covering the 8-foot stone sea-wall, the debris has gone right out into the bay, reclaiming some acres of land from the sea." …

"The scene is one of the utmost desolation. At one part was to be seen a quantity of household goods, books, and clothing, heaped together amidst the soil; in another, scattered along the beach, was a mass of every conceivable article, strewn far and wide, as though some demon in a fit of destructive rage, had hurled them right and left. …

"When it is remembered that the house stood some forty feet above low water mark, and some four or five chains distant there from, some idea may be formed of the enormous amount of earth which fell in so short a time," …