Identifier: throughsouthwes00more (find matches)
Title: Through south Westland, a journey to the Haast and Mount Aspiring, New Zealand
Year: 1911 (1910s)
Authors: Moreland, A. Maud
Subjects: Westland, N.Z. (County)
Publisher: London Witherby
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

View Book Page: Book Viewer
About This Book: Catalog Entry
View All Images: All Images From Book
Click here to view book online to see this illustration in context in a browseable online version of this book.

Text Appearing Before Image:
when the plain is drained it will wave withgolden crops and raise the finest cattle in the West.Late that evening we came to Lake Whahapo—a silver mirror, where a crested grebe made itsslow way across in an ever-widening V of ripples.Tiny lamps of phosphorescent light glowed underthe ferns that bordered the track—tired as I was,the peace and beauty of it all held me in its spell.Just as it grew dark we reached the Forks Inn.There was light enough to make out the stablesacross the road, and to recognize Mr. Heveldt, thehost, who came and led away the horses, while hisjolly Irish wife gave us hearty welcome. It was amerry household, and as Transome washed at a tinbasin in the kitchen, I could hear peals of laughteras she entertained him the while—interlarding herremarks with threats to Kill Baby Franz Josef,if he wasnt a good boy ! She called the babyafter the glacier—not the Emperor. All night a torrent outside roared and tumbled.Whenever I awoke I heard its never-ceasing voice
Text Appearing After Image:
WATERS OF WESTLAND. 31 —truly in South Westland one is never out ofsight and sound of running water. Whether itbe of the great rivers hurrying to the sea, or thewhite cascades or streams rippling fetlock-deepacross the track, that voice of many waters isalways in ones ears. There are times when thefierceness of the rivers fills one with a sense ofimpotence. A wide river-bed strewn with treetrunks and enormous boulders when the floodcomes down—and they chafe and roll in wildturmoil—is an awesome enough sort of place.And the more you have to do with New Zealandrivers, the stronger becomes the awe in which youhold them. On the west they are often nottwenty miles long in their whole course, and risingas they do in the snows of the high Alps, the rushof water is terrific for nine months of the year.It is almost as if they were live things possessedby some spirit, ready to work disaster to thosewho meddle with them. From this place, namedthe Forks, we had a choice of ways—either toc

Note About Images