First,there is the river,flowing very rapidly upon a bed of large shingle,with alternate rapids and smooth places,constantly forking and constantly reuniting itself like tangled skeins of silver ribbon surrounding lozenge-shaped islets of sand and gravel.On either side is a long flat composed of shingle similar to the bed of the river itself,but covered with vegetation,tussock,and scrub,with fine feed for sheep or cattle among the burnt Irishman thickets.The flat is some half-mile broad on each side the river,narrowing as the mountains draw in closer upon the stream.It is terminated by a steep terrace.Twenty or thirty feet above this terrace is another flat,we will say semicircular,for I am generalising,which again is surrounded by a steeply sloping terrace like an amphitheatre;above this another flat,receding still farther back,perhaps half a mile in places,perhaps almost close above the one below it;above this another flat,receding farther,and so on,until the level of the plain proper,or highest flat,is several hundred feet above the river.I have not seen a single river in Canterbury which is not more or less terraced even below the gorge.The angle of the terrace is always very steep:I seldom see one less than 45degrees.One always has to get off and lead one's horse down,except when an artificial cutting has been made,or advantage can be taken of some gully that descends into the flat below.Tributary streams are terraced in like manner on a small scale,while even the mountain creeks repeat the phenomena in miniature:the terraces being always highest where the river emerges from its gorge,and slowly dwindling down as it approaches the sea,till finally,instead of the river being many hundred feet below the level of the plains,as is the case at the foot of the mountains,the plains near the sea are considerably below the water in the river,as on the north side of the Rakaia,before described.
Our road lay up the Ashburton,which we had repeatedly to cross and recross.
A dray going through a river is a pretty sight enough when you are utterly unconcerned in the contents thereof;the rushing water stemmed by the bullocks and the dray,the energetic appeals of the driver to Tommy or Nobbler to lift the dray over the large stones in the river,the creaking dray,the cracking whip,form a tout ensemble rather agreeable than otherwise.But when the bullocks,having pulled the dray into the middle of the river,refuse entirely to pull it out again;when the leaders turn sharp round and look at you,or stick their heads under the bellies of the polars;when the gentle pats on the forehead with the stock of the whip prove unavailing,and you are obliged to have recourse to strong measures,it is less agreeable:especially if the animals turn just after having got your dray half-way up the bank,and,twisting it round upon a steeply inclined surface,throw the centre of gravity far beyond the base:over goes the dray into the water.Alas,my sugar!my tea!my flour!my crockery!It is all over--drop the curtain.
I beg to state my dray did not upset this time,though the centre of gravity fell far without the base:what Newton says on that subject is erroneous;so are those illustrations of natural philosophy,in which a loaded dray is represented as necessarily about to fall,because a dotted line from the centre of gravity falls outside the wheels.It takes a great deal more to upset a well-loaded dray than one would have imagined,although sometimes the most unforeseen trifle will effect it.
Possibly the value of the contents may have something to do with it;but my ideas are not yet fully formed upon the subject.
We made about seventeen miles and crossed the river ten times,so that the bullocks,which had never before been accustomed to river-work,became quite used to it,and manageable,and have continued so ever since.
We halted for the night at a shepherd's hut:awakening out of slumber Iheard the fitful gusts of violent wind come puff,puff,buffet,and die away again;nor'-wester all over.I went out and saw the unmistakable north-west clouds tearing away in front of the moon.I remembered Mrs.
W-'s corns,and anathematised them in my heart.
It may be imagined that I turned out of a comfortable bed,slipped on my boots,and then went out;no such thing:we were all lying in our clothes with one blanket between us and the bare floor--our heads pillowed on our saddle-bags.
The next day we made only three miles to Mr.P-'s station.There we unloaded the dray,greased it,and restored half the load,intending to make another journey for the remainder,as the road was very bad.
