OUT IN THE BACKBLOCKS.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVIII, Issue 2762, 17 March 1910, Page 4

OUT IN THE BACKBLOCKS.

THE PIONEER’S STR.UGG.IR

I often wonder, writes the' “Dominion” travelling correspondent, how many people would fairly shudder if thev had any idea or the pains and penalties which are in front of them when they take up a bush section. It is quite certain that if some could peer into the future t-hey would not race the liaidship and discomfort which sa manv of the brave pioneers endure every day. It no doubt sounds nice to have a bit of land which you can call your own, but in the case of a heavy bush section it is for years a sack without a bottom. You can put a. great deal 01 money and work into it. and at the end of the year there is little to show. The marvel of it is where all the cash has gone. And yet we find still plenty of men with brave women at their sides willing and eager to bury themselves away in the tincx. unbroken forest, many a time having to cut their own tracks to the sections, always having either to carry their stores and tools on their own strong backs, or it may be by packhorse. The so-called roads giving access to the block would daunt any but the most stout-heart-ed. WHAT THE ROAD MEANS. Now ail this is written because 1 have just seen how the pioneers who have battled away have had to undergo all sorts of ill-fortune, and in the end haye been tried by flame and smoke, are now revelling in sunshine and comparative plenty. It was the main read from Horoeka—up, and up it climbs to the Puketois. A very short time ago this road was merely a sixfcot track, or supposed to he so. and in some places hardly wide enough To ride a horse. Then it was formed into a dray read, and, in winter, was almost impassable. Now it is just splendid, metalled nearly all the way. At the higher end it is all limestone, of which tlie Puketoi Ranges are composed. Now these settlers can bowl along in their gigs, and their wives can get a run out to the outside world. Before this, they were -prisoners for nine months out of the twelve. Yes, it is wonderful to see how gradually the country is being transformed from an unbroken forest to a land of good farms and excellent roads. But —and there is always a “but.” somewhere —when the road becomes so utterly neglected as it is from tlie saddle on the range down towards Coonoor, it is simply a scandal. Any amount of good metal, and a road in -which it is positively dangerous to drive! THE COONOOR COUNTRY. The Coonoor country is a great land for grass—cocksfoot, it is too light for rye. The last farmer on the way to the saddle is Mr. Thomas AYhitta; he is one of the pioneers from Canterbury who formed this settlement, and one of the few, very few, I think some three or four, who have had tlie pluck to stick to their sections. To-day ho is enjoying a well-earned reward for the toil of some seventeen years of hard labor. to which he condemned himself and Mrs. AYhitta when they went to Coonoor. He has built- a very handsome dwelling, with every modern convenience. He lives nearly two thousand feet above the. sea, and the homestead is in a most romantic situation. On one side the Puketoi Range rises away to the oast, while behind the house and wool-shed are huge limestone rocks and crags, and wonderful streams constantly pour their icy -water down every gully. Machines are in the shed, not only Mr. AA'hitta’s own sheep are put through, but numbers of the sheep from his neighbours’ places are shorn here also. Leaving Coonoor. one passes a disused creamery, which was at one time running in connection with the Makuri Factory. On again, past the school, the road forks, one -way goes to Dannevirlce, and the other to Pahintua. over the Waowaepa Range. This latter is only a horse track for several miles, but it is metalled all the way. I ihink it would be difficult to find more beautiful scenery than in this range. I never saw so many mountain palms before. The native toi. with its broad leaves, up to eight inches wide, and red mid-rib. is worth going a long way to see. Now it is down hill for many a weary mite—Pahiatua at last.