BRUCE BAY, PARINGA, ABBEY ROCKS, OKURA, WAITOTO, AND JACKSON’S BAY.
CHAPTER X.
HE southern journey can now he accomplished overland, from Hokitika to Jackson’s Bay, on horseback. It is somewhat tedious, and difficult in places, and few travellers have undertaken the journey for pleasure. Deputy-Returning Officers, during an election, have ridden down and up in the course of twelve to fourteen days, and many others on special business missions have done the trip in even shorter time, though it is by no means an unusual occurrence for a traveller to be “stuck up” by floods for several weeks in journeying from either end. The overland trip is as yet attended with arduous labour and considerable risk. But, for any one who can readily spare the time and expense, this route presents many attractions in the way of lake, mountain, and glacier scenery. Having furnished my readers with a short sketch of the early days of Okarito, the Five-Mile Beach, Gillespie’s, and Bruce Bay, the last named being the farthest limit I have reached overland, I will resume from that point a narrative of a trip southwards in 1876, with some further particulars to the latest date.
Scarcely had the handy little steamer “Waipara,” which conveyed us from Hokitika, dropped anchor, and the whistle sounded, when, early as it was, lights were seen flickering along the shore, towards the south-east corner of Bruce Bay. The Maoris were at once astir, and with them their canine companions. There was as much clamour accompanying the landing of two boats containing a few bundles of hides and empty barrels, as might have attended Caesar’s first landing on the coast of Kent. It was still dark when the boats came alongside, and out of them came two small thatched houses, or objects which looked very like them. These were two elder members of the Maori community, carefully protected against the cold of the morning by being clad in flaxen cloaks, but barefoot and well wet by the landing of the boats. They were both weird, worn-looking men—one a chief, a gentleman of indefinite age, but a hardy sample of his race, capable of carrying weight for age with any one of his dusky brethren; the other with much more the expression of a Frenchman than a Maori, and with a nose and a cunning twinkle of the eye which fully justified his comparison to “Punch,” by which name he had been generally known, though not so designated by his respected parents. They were accompanied by a fine strapping Maori of North Island birth, who is married to the chief’s daughter, and who performed the duties of consignee, shipping agent, and interpreter, by receiving the goods intended for the Maoris, settling with the captain,
