Banking Under Difficulties/Chapter 17
New Zealand.
CHAPTER XVII.
I had not been in Nelson many days when I was ordered to “Wakamarina,” a new diggings some forty miles distant. I did the journey on horseback, crossing the Maungatapu Mountain, the scene of the diabolical murders committed by Burgess and party in 1866 (particulars of which are given in another chapter).
On reaching Havelock I found all bustle and excitement. Diggers were flocking in hundreds from Otago and other parts of New Zealand. The diggings were twenty miles from the township, at a place called Deep Creek, but were not sufficiently extensive or remunerative to support a large population, which dwindled down to a mere handful on the discovery of the West Coast goldfields, in the latter part of 1864.
21st October, 1864.—Gold having been discovered in payable quantities on the west coast of the middle island[1] I was ordered to take a run down by the steamer Nelson, leaving on the above date, to have a look at the place and report upon it. Arrived at the “Buller” on the afternoon of Sunday, the 23rd. A miserable looking place it was; only two buildings, both stores or shanties, kept respectively by Messrs. Martin and Hodges. Found a good many Maories camped about; was amused at seeing a Maori lady wash her baby, a little thing a few months old, which she took down to the river, and dipped several times; the child took it kindly, and although the water was very cold it cried but little; she slung it on her back, without even drying it, and trotted away. A number of Maories were busy writing letters to send by us to their friends at the “Grey River.” I saw one or two of their letters, most creditable productions, both as regards spelling and writing.
The Buller is a large river, wide at the entrance, with water enough at low tide for vessels drawing from 10 to 12 feet. The first steamer that entered the river was the Tasmanian Maid, on the 29th January, 1862, in command of Captain Whitwell. The boat went in unexpectedly and landed her cargo in the scrub, there being no wharf or regular landing place. She took down sixty diggers, which increased the population of the district to 200. These were scattered about, some at the diggings known as the “Old Buller,” others, at the Waimangaroa. Further south than the Buller was at that time uninhabited, save by a few Maories. Nearly twelve months elapsed before the next steamer, the Wonga Wonga, was sent down under charter by the Provincial Government. The only places of accommodation were the Kawatira Hotel, kept by a man named Martin, and a store kept by Reuben Waite. The “Old Buller” diggings were discovered in 1859, and the Waimangaroa a short time afterwards. In May 1863 the town of Westport was surveyed, and in October of that year the first sale of town sections was held at Nelson; but so much money having been expended by the early settlers on the old township, they, naturally enough, objected to shift and give the high prices asked for building allotments by the lucky owners of them. On the left of the town, some miles up the river, lies Mount Rochfort, on which the hopes of the Westport people to a great extent depend, coal of first-rate quality having been discovered there. The approach to the Mount is bad, and it would cost an enormous sum to construct a railway.
25th October.—Made a start for the “Grey River” at six p.m. About seven miles from the entrance to the “Buller” are some high rocks, known as the “Steeples.” As a rule, vessels go outside of them, although there is an inside passage, which would save a good many miles; it is seldom used, and only in the finest weather. The Grey is sixty miles south of the Buller. We ran down in eight hours. The tide not being favourable when we arrived, anchored in the homestead until it suited. When the captain (Leech) thought there was sufficient water on the bar, he went to the masthead and piloted his vessel in; this was his first trip; we got in all right. The Grey bar is a shifting one; at one time the run in will be a straight one; at another a long way to the north or south, in which case the vessel has to run broadside on the breakers between the sandspit and the beach. The few people resident at the Grey turned out to meet us; only found one store, kept by Reuben Waite, one of the earliest, if not the earliest, settler on the Coast, who supplied me with the following information as to the rush. I give it in his own words:—
“On or about the month of May 1860, I was on the Collingwood goldfields, distance about seventy miles from Nelson, when a party of Maories came overland from the River Buller by travelling up the sea coast, and thence by the Aorere to Collingwood (there being no other way for them to come in those days), bringing with them a parcel of gold, which they said they had obtained from a place some twenty miles up the River Buller.
“We started in the good steamship Nelson in the middle of July 1864, with a cargo of provisions and every requisite for the diggings. From my long experience on goldfields I knew exactly what was wanted. The diggers took no tools (as it was only a prospecting trip) or provisions from Nelson, and were satisfied with my prices for all that was wanted. The Government of Nelson, finding I was going to the Grey, gave me a contract to procure for them forty tons of coal as a sample from the Grey coal mine.
“On arriving at the Grey we entered it in first-rate style, and steamed up to the landing opposite to what is now called Mawhera Quay. Here we landed the goods, which were, of course, left exposed on the river beach, and all hands started off prospecting. My Maories set cheerfully to work, and, with plenty of help, I soon managed to get up a temporary store. In the meantime the goods were going out as fast as I could possibly sell them; aye, before I could get them out of the vessel the diggers were jumping down the hold for them. At the Maori pah there were none but women, and when they saw the steamer they could not tell what to make of it. It was the first steamer that was ever on the Grey. The Maori men had all gone to get gold, which made the white men all the more anxious to go, and before long I was left almost alone, all the diggers having gone to the Teremakau River, where the Maories were digging, and with the exception of my storeman and Mr. Batty, who came down with me to get the coal, there was no other white man left at the Grey.
“About a week after I had been at the Grey, some Maories came down from the diggings and brought with them a sample of about 50 ozs. of the finest gold I had ever seen. I was pleased to see it, and purchased it from them. These natives told me that the whole of the men that went up were coming down with the intention of killing me, and soon after two white men came down and advised me to get out of the way, as the whole party were close at hand, and were coming down to ransack my store, and hang me. It appears that they had not been up to the Greenstone Creek, but merely to the Teremakau. From what I could understand, the white men were led astray, owing to the Maories having heard from some of their own people that a great number of pakehas had arrived by a steamer at the Grey. They accordingly came down from the Greenstone and commenced working in the Teremakau, where they could not earn their salt, for the purpose of leading the diggers to suppose that the gold had been got in that quarter. Here let me add that, shortly after the Greenstone had been discovered, I was informed that the Maories had completely stopped up the track; thus it was that the new arrivals went wrong. I cannot vouch for the truth of this, but it was told me by a half-caste, and it is exceedingly probable. I stood my ground, however, and the Maories promised to help me if I was interfered with. Next day the whole crowd came down, and camped near the store, so that I could hear some, as they passed the store, cursing and swearing at me, while others said nothing. There was a Dutchman who had most to say, who stole a case of gin from my store that night. This Dutchman came into the store, and said I was wanted outside. He had been round the diggers’ tents trying to incite them against me, and although the case had assumed a serious aspect, I could hardly refrain from laughing at the horrible attempt at the English language displayed by this man, more especially owing to the state of excitement into which he had worked himself from imagining that he was a deeply-injured individual. I had neither arms nor ammunition of any kind, for up to that time they were not wanted on the West Coast. I went to the fire, a large one, which, by-the-bye, was being fed by coals that had been brought down the river for the Nelson Government.
It was rather an exciting moment as, stepping outside the store, the thought struck me that my life hung as it were upon a thread—that the weight of a feather would probably turn the scale either way. I was there standing accused, though wrongfully, of having wilfully brought a number of my fellow-countrymen to an outlandish district, probably to suffer want and ruin. I knew that nothing but self-possession would avail me, so I made the most of my position, and put my trust in Providence. I shall never forget the impression of that scene as it first met my gaze; the bright glare of the huge coal fire, the motley group of roughly-attired figures around it—some silent and thoughtful, others fierce and clamorous, with every species of anger and revenge visible on their countenances—the solemn and monotonous roar of the distant breakers, together with the surrounding mountain scenery in all its pristine grandeur, formed a romantic picture, rude and wild in the extreme. There were a great many men round the fire waiting for me, and when I made my appearance they began to ask questions of me. I may as well state here that all the Maories, men and women, were then close by, and ready to give me any assistance. There is no need to tell what they were armed with, but there would have been some bloodshed that night had the diggers interfered with me; some of the men had taken the potatoes out of the Maori pits at Teremakau. The first question put to me by the aforesaid Dutchman was, ‘Vell, vot did you corse dis rush vor?’ I answered I did not cause the rush, and that I was in Nelson to get a small vessel to bring me to the Grey; that I had called them all together in Nelson, and told them that I was only going prospecting; that I did not lead them to believe that they were going to a goldfield; but that, according to the letters I had received, I thought there was gold in the country, which I still believed, and that a proper trial would prove it. The next question put to me was by a Cockney—I am sure he was, for he so murdered the letter ‘h.’ ‘Vel, Mr. Vaite, ’ow wud you like to cum ’ere without money, and ’ave to starve as we ’ave to do?” My answer was, that I did not ask him to come; he had pleased himself. ‘Vell, Mr. Vaite, you seems to treat this ’ere matter werry lightly, but hi thinks hits no joke to come down ’ere and spend ’all vun’s munny and not to git eny gold.’ The aforesaid Dutchman then spoke up again, and said, ‘Vell, poys, ve vill tak vot ve vants vrom Vaite’s store, and ve vill hang him afterwards.’ Just at that moment an Irishman whispered in my ear the words, ‘Cheer up my boy, don't be frightened; you have more friends than enemies in this crowd.’ With that I felt I was safe, but just at that moment a man who had come down to hear what was going on, one of Mr. John Rochtort’s men, fell down in a fit close to my feet, and that put an end to the meeting. But I was still annoyed by the discontented, and the most of them brought back what provisions they had, with their picks and shovels, tin dishes, &c., and I gave their full value for them.
“One man, an Irishman, assaulted me one night and tore my coat, and had it not been for two of his countrymen, who were friendly to me, I have no doubt I should have had everything smashed in the store. The two men referred to took him away, and gave him a good drubbing. I shall ever feel thankful to a person named Peter Hawkins (now in Nelson), who happened to be in the store at the time. A fellow had a bottle in his hand about half-full of Old Tom, ready to strike me a blow on the back of the head; Peter stayed his hand by grasping the bottle, or perhaps I should not be here now.
“The men who came down and were engaged in this business were now only waiting for a steamer to take them away, but while they were waiting, two parties with more patience than the rest had penetrated a little farther up the country, and had found out a track which led them to the Greenstone Creek. Having by chance during their researches discovered the fresh prints of men’s feet, they followed them up till they came to the desired spot. I will now give an account of what followed. They came into the store, and one of them (Michael Spillan) asked me when I was going to get my bullocks and dray down. I told him I was sorry to say they would be down by the next steamer. ‘You ought to be glad,’ he said; ‘look here, my boy, I have got this in a day with a dish off the bottom of a paddock 6 ft. deep by 7 ft. square.’ They had 7 ozs. 12 dwts. The other party had 3 ozs. of the same kind of gold, and the same as that which I had purchased of the Maories. The parties who were waiting for the steamer came in, and seeing the gold, could searcely believe their eyes, but when I showed them the 50 ozs. I had bought of the Maories they wanted to know why I had not shown them that before. My answer was that they would not have believed me had I shown it to them. Then came a rush for stores again, and those who had been among the grumblers I charged an extra price, as they had compelled me to take back their stores and tools. From that time commenced the great rush, which up to the present date has brought out of the earth forty tons of gold, and for which I was to be hanged, because those first arrivals chose to call the expedition a duffer rush.
“After this the gold began to come down pretty freely, and all were satisfied; in fact, I believe that the Greenstone was as good as any diggings afterwards found on the Coast. I have seen many of the crowd since who were in that circle to hang me, but I have not seen the Dutchman. Perhaps he did not forget the case of gin, and kept out of the way. But the worst had to come, for in consequence of the disappointment I have narrated about the rush, I had ordered no more goods to be sent down. By the second arrival of the steamer she brought more passengers, but no provisions, so that we ran short of them, and I had to curtail a great many, and especially those who had been so hard on me. These I put on half rations until the steamer came in again. When she came she brought my bullocks and dray, and with two horses and a mule I had purchased from Mr. Dobson, C.E., who had just completed the survey of the coast, I sent goods to the mouth of the Teremakau, and up that stream to its junction with the Hohuna, by canoe, about nine miles, where it was carried by the diggers (until some more pack horses came) to the Greenstone Creek. I started a store at the mouth of the Hohuna.
“After this I returned to Nelson by the first opportunity for the purpose of obtaining goods, and also to make arrangements for transport. I was greatly astonished on my landing to find myself an object of notoriety. It appears that a report had reached Nelson that I had been hanged at the Grey during the little adventure before described; and so great was the excitement of many people, who were glad to see me return safe and sound with a good parcel of gold, that it was with difficulty that I was enabled to get away from them at the wharf.”
About a mile south of the landing place were two stores, one kept by Horsington of Lambing Flat celebrity; the other by Isaac Blake, after whom the township “Blaketown” was named.
The diggings were between twenty and thirty miles from the Grey, at a place called Greenstone. I hired a horse and got a packer named “De Silva,” a foreigner, a talkative, consequential little fellow, to accompany me thither. The day was anything but an inviting one, the rain coming down in torrents, and a strong north wind blowing. The first ten miles of our journey lay along the beach, southwards, the sea very rough, and the breakers rolling in with great force. My guide did not seem to mind, but rode right through them. Six miles from the Grey we came to a river, the Paroa, generally known as the Saltwater Creek. This we crossed and rode four miles further, then we reached the Teremakau; here I found two stores. Our journey now lay inland from the mouth of the Teremakau, which river had to be crossed four times. The Maories camped about advised us to stay where we were, that a ‘fresh’ would soon be down, and that it would not be safe to cross the river. De Silva, however, knew better. I trusted entirely to his judgment in the matter, and off we went; got over the first ford all right, but found on reaching the second that we could not get across, the river was rising so rapidly. De Silva then came to the conclusion that the best thing we could do was to hurry back. We re-crossed the river, which we found fully a foot higher than when we crossed half an hour before; and a good thing we did, for a heavy fresh came down which prevented any traffic for some days. Had we succeeded in getting over the second ford the chances are that we should have had to remain in the river bed, between the second and third crossings, until the fresh went down. We had no alternative, so rode back to the Grey. There being no prospect of my getting to the Greenstone for a week at least, and having collected all the information I could about the place, I thought it advisable to return to Nelson, which I did. My report, on the whole, being a favourable one, it was determined to send me back by return steamer with a view of opening up a business on the West Coast. The Bank of New Zealand were quite alive to the importance of sending a man down to occupy the field, especially as they saw we were making preparations for so doing; so they sent one of their staff, a young man named Walmsley, who was a fellow-passenger with me on my second trip.
5th November.—Made a second start again in the Nelson at 6.30 a.m. Later in the day it came on to blow so hard that we had to put back, and anchored under Tonga Island; made a fresh start again in the afternoon of the 6th. Rough sea and very foggy. At night met the Wallabi, a new steamer from Sydney, built to the order of N. Edwards and Co. This boat came down just in the nick of time for the West Coast rush. She coined money for her owners; in fact paid for herself in a few trips.
7th November.—Awoke by a heavy sea coming into the cabin. Jumped up and found that we were putting into Wanganui Inlet, it being too rough for us to proceed—heavy chopping sea and head wind. After breakfast went on shore; not much to be seen. A good coal seam was discovered here a short time after this by some passengers, who, like ourselves, had put in there unexpectedly. About noon, the wind having lulled and the sea gone down, we made a fresh start, and reached the Grey at 10.30 p.m.
8th November.—Great excitement; a new goldfield having been discovered at the Totara, about forty miles south of the Grey. Met Constable O’Donnell, a fellow-passenger on my first trip, who, with Sergeant Broham and Constable Cooper, formed the police force on the West Coast; their camp was pitched at Blaketown.
The Grey River divides the provinces Canterbury and Nelson. The diggings are on the Canterbury side.
10th November.—Made a start for the Totara on foot. My swag, containing a pair of blankets, gold scales, &c., I put on Sweeney’s waggon, a light American one, and the only one on the coast. Heavy walking along the beach. At Teremakau met Walmsley and Mr. Revell, the Government storekeeper, whom I shall particularly mention in another chapter. They too were on their way to the rush. Lunched at an eatinghouse, which had been erected since my last visit, kept by a Mrs. King (one of the first women on the West Coast). We slept in a Maori whare (building); were all very tired, and were soon in the arms of “Morpheus.”
11th November.—Raining hard all day; could not stir out, so amused ourselves by playing euchre and whist. Up betimes next morning; crossed the river soon after breakfast, but found we could not get along, owing to the high tide; discovered an old whare, in which I lay down, but not to sleep—that was impossible—sandflies (a little black fly which bites hard and raises a lump like a mosquito) being here in thousands. Walmsley and Revell went on, driving a pack-horse before them, on which they had a tent, provisions, &c. When the tide was about half out I started in company with two or three others; we met seven or eight Maories on horseback returning from the Totara. They told us there were five hundred men on the ground, and that they were returning to the Greenstone; my own impression was to take up some of the ground left by the Pakeha (whitemen), and this eventually turned out to be the case. We jogged along till we came to the Arahura, where we camped. We were informed that to catch the low tide we must turn out early. This we did certainly. At 12.30 a.m. we were roused, and shivering and shaking, up we got, thinking it a most unusual hour to start. We found when on the tramp that Morey (the driver of the waggon) had mistaken the time, and had thought it was 4.30. It turned out just as well that he did so, as by starting at that hour we had a splendid beach to walk over, the tide being well out. Arrived at the Okatika River at five o’clock. Here I found a calico store and another building close to it, built of brushwood, flax, &c., the only two buildings on the north side of the river; the store was kept by Messrs. Price and Hudson. Hudson attended to the store; Price did the packing. Their supplies were obtained from Reuben Waite, of the Grey. The other building was occupied by Ramsay and party. The first ferry boat was formed from a large tree scooped out, all in one piece; 2s. 6d, the charge for crossing the river. On the south side we found several tents and four stores. Finding the waggon was not going any further—so many returning from the Totara, and the day turning out wet—we determined to return to the Grey. I camped at the Arahura in company with Morey and a man named Murrell; had a small tarpaulin, which we rigged above us, with boughs at the back and sides; made a large fire, boiled the billy, and had tea. The rain came down in torrents and put out the fire. Our blankets were soon wet through. Murrell and I were seated on a box containing my gold scales. There we sat shivering, “not a drap of the cratur,” and in this plight did we remain till one a.m., by which time the rain ceased. Murrell was between Morey and myself, and had decidedly the best of it, for he would snooze away leaning his head first on my shoulder, then on Morey’s. A fresh fire was lighted, the billy boiled, and some coffee made. Bush rats were about us in hundreds; the ground all round us some inches deep in water. This was without exception the most miserable night I ever spent. What made it so bad was being compelled to sit in one position from seven in the evening till daylight in the morning. As soon as daylight appeared we were up, and spread out our blankets to dry. Discovered a whare within fifty yards of our camping-place, which would have afforded us good shelter. Unfortunately for ourselves we were not aware of the fact till too late. Started for Teremakau in the afternoon, which we reached about dusk. Crossed the river early next morning. On reaching the Saltwater Creek we found it flooded, so had to camp for the night. Sent one of our party to the Teremakau for some flour and “wai pero” (strong water, ie., gin). We were determined not to be in the same fix we were in on Sunday night at the Arahura.
16th November.—Broham and I met yesterday for the first time at the Teremakau, He was in M‘Gregor’s tent writing his usual weekly report. He was squatted on the ground, and writing on his knees, the rain drops coming through the roof on his paper; writing under difficulties, and no mistake.
17th November.—When on the south spit to-day I noticed a Maori picking up something and putting it into a kit (basket). I was inquisitive enough to ask what he was about, and found he was collecting eggs; the eggs of a small bird called tara, or sea swallow. I picked up a few, which we fried for tea; they were excellent. I may here state that I was called by the Maories “Fish Oh,” which was the nearest approach they could make to Preshaw. By the diggers I was known as the “Banker with the Cabbage-tree Hat.”
A few days after this, on my return from one of my trips to the Greenstone, I was fortunate enough to come across about three dozen of these birds’ eggs. These I put in my “cabbage-tree” hat, and rode along till I came to a tent. Hailing the owner thereof, I said, “What have you for dinner?” “Bacon, damper, and tea,” was the reply. “All right,” I said, “you provide the bacon and I’ll provide the eggs.” “Eggs be d———d!” was the reply. “Well, here they are, old man. Give me the frying-pan and I’ll fry them,” which I did, and in less than five minutes we were both sitting down to a sumptuous repast.
- ↑ Extract from an address delivered 8th October, 1862, being the anniversary of Captain Cook’s first landing in New Zealand, by Julius Haast, President of the Philosophical Institute of Canterbury, New Zealand:—“Hitherto great confusion has prevailed relative to the island, which is called both the Middle and South Island. The appellation Middle Island is a mistake, as the size of Stewart’s Island precludes it from being ranged with the two others. The most eminent geographers of Great Britain and of the continent of Europe—such men as Arrowsmith, Keith Johnston, Petermann, Hochstetter, &c.—call it always the South Island, while in New Zealand, even in official documents, it is called sometimes by the one and sometimes by the other name. In order to avoid further misunderstanding, would it not be appropriate to give this island the name of Cookland? for, so far as I am aware, no country visited by that illustrious navigator has been so designated.”