Brighter Britain! (Volume 1 of 2)

d the steamer Lily. This vessel is the only regular means of communication, at present, with the young settlements lyi

, for the steam service on the Waitemata and the Kaipara is conducted by very second-hand old rattle-traps. Where they were worn out I know not. Bad as

para river is that on which Helensville stands. It waters an extensive valley, and, flowing north-westerly, fal

s of Western Scotland. They are the Kaipara, the Hoteo, the Oruawharo, the Otamatea, the Wairau, the Arapaoa, and the Wairoa. Several of these have branches. Thus the Pahi, to which we are going, branches ou

rict. Ships of heavy tonnage can get up to Tokatoka on the Wairoa, to Te Pahi and Te Otamatea, and within a short distance of Helensville, these places being, respectively, from twenty-five to thirty-five miles fro

and thus the first great difficulty in opening up a new country, the want of roads, is obviated. Here, indeed, as we shall fin

of it, such glorious woods and jungles and thickets of strange beautiful vegetation. Mile after mile it is the same, the dense evergreen forest stretching away over the ranges as far

eat stretches of uniform thicket. The mangrove is here a tree growing to a height of twenty or thirty feet, branching thickly, and bearing a dark, luxuriant foliage. At high water, the mangrove swamps present the appearance of th

rest, whose trees are uniform in height and kind. All round us, like a hedge, is the glossy green foliage, sometimes brushing our boat on either side. And we scare up multitudes of water fowl, unused to such invasion of their solitudes. Wild duck, teal, grey snipe, shags, and many kin

he low deck of the Lily, we only see the higher grounds and hill-tops round, looking like islands in the distance, as we

ur. Not that a gale is by any means a light affair, in this wide stretch of water. When one is blowing, as it sometimes does for two or three days at a time, the Lily lies snugly at an

such that each township gets-or is supposed to get-one weekly visit from her. She is a boat with a character, or without it,

tween the Kaipara settlers and the outside world. He is a man of ferocious aspect, black-bearded to the eyes, taciturn, and rough in demeanour

ll refuse to do business if it is his whim, or if any particular individual happen to offend him; for he is lord paramount over the river traffic, and well does he know how to turn that to his

ers and bushmen at such places have for procuring it, is such as is afforded by the boat. The Pirate is always ready to dispense the vile compounds he call spirits to all comers-sixpence per drink being his price, as it is the established tariff of the colony. It is held to be

cise his mind by conversation with such passengers as there may be. He is of a very inquiring disposition, and asks leading questions of a very personal nature. Seeing that I am a new-chum, he begins to ask me my name, age, birthplace, who my parents were, where I formerly lived, what I did, what my cousins and aunts are, their names, and all about the

engines are continually breaking down, or bursting, or doing something or other offensive. But whatever may happen, the Pirate and his two aids consider themselves equal to the emergency, and make shift to tinker up the mishap somehow. Such unlooked for examples of misapplied force are constantl

given to considering the relative differences of the metals. On one occasion, rust had eaten a hole through the boiler, and leak

th. In short, she ran away. But Pirate Tom was not to be imposed on by any such feeble tricks. He immediately steered the Lily slap into the nearest bank and tied her up to a tree. T

self kicking at the bank. After churning up the mud, plunging at the bank, and straining at her tether for an hour or so, the Lily quieted down, all her steam hav

ded. There was an unsafe steam-pipe, which might easily have been replaced at a trifling cost; but, of course, the Pirate would spend nothing on it, and relied on his own usual resources. One day the steam-pipe burst, when a number of passengers were on

s.

steam-p

and cost

ed to Mrs. -- by

for attendance

hat occasion. But the lesson was not of any lasting use. He wi

our, for a wonder, and neither breaks down, nor bursts up, nor runs away. We steam over a great stretch of the harbour, noticing her

to the harbour again, only to go on to the entrance of yet another river. The scenery is very varied, and there is much in it to attract our

basins open upon the rivers, with tumbling creeks or graceful cascades pouring through them. One might suppose that some giant of yore h

but the heavy bush is chiefly at some distance from the waterside. What we see most of here is the light bush; dense thicke

upon a time, when they numbered millions, the Maoris inhabited these shores pretty thickly. They preferred to be near the water, as settlers do now, for the same reason of convenience in com

l, numerous as they may have been then, they could not have held the immense tracts here under cultivation. That must date from a more remote period. But the places where their vil

a cluster of their wharès, low down near the beach-brown huts of thatch-like appearance, for they are made of raupo grass. Some of them are very neat, with carved and painted doors and fronts. Near them is usually some fenced-in cultivation, and possibly a roug

re, the statesman, speaking of Spain, said-he loved it because God had so much land there in His own holding. If he could say that of Spain's bare sie

tures won by the axe and the fire, a mere bite out of the boundless woods behind. At such places "The Crew" paddles ashore in the dingey, or possibly

Kaipara towns, they are very much in embryo as yet. Te Otamatea, for instance, is a single house and nothing more. This is our ideal of a bush settlement; it is as it should be-not too much humanity and crowd. The house, a rambling, wooden building, is of a go

eamer's deck, there must be over a dozen. It is horridly populous. Moreover, one sees here, so strongly marked, that uncouth rawness that attends incipient civilization. Nature has been cleared away to make room for the art of man, and art has not yet got beyond the inchoate unloveliness of bare utilitarianism. The be

k in the morning, but it is late in the day before we get into the Arapaoa. By taking advantage of the tides, the Lily manages to accomplish ten knots an hour. But the going

e tranquil, gleaming water. Round the base of the bluff, on a little flat between it and the white shingly beach, are the houses of the settlement. Four families live here at this time; and besides their abodes, there are a r

, out of which opens the Paparoa, hidden from sight at this point. Before us, bearing to the right, is the Pahi river. It is a vista of woodland scenery, glorious in the rays of the declinin

ite homestead of a settler's station. Beyond is what appears to be a chain of distant mountains. Looki

d varied than any we have gazed upon all day. The range seems to rise in terraces, and just one abrupt gap about the centre discloses the peak of a conical hill behind. The whole

ter it, and they prohibit Europeans from transgressing within its boundaries. Nor will they sell the land, although its superb fertility has induced some settlers t

hether wandering artist will ever present this glorious landscape now before us to people at

oods on the ranges above, scaring the shags, kingfishers, and rock-snipe on the oyster-beds and beaches.

the immigrant barracks. We discuss a nobbler, which is at once a farewell one with Pirate Tom, "The Crew,"

he oldest inhabitant of the township, and was called the Mayor when he dwelt there solitary, a few years ago. Now he is postmaster, storekeeper, justiciary, acting-parson, constabu

ng us wait there, as "he'll be back to fix us before we can have time to wink." Half a dozen men and boys-the entire population

ways the superior sex, you see, even in the bush, that make the first advances. She offers us peaches, the little bright-eyed, sun

f people more accustomed to society-they show themselves anxious enough to be hospitable and welcoming. They are eager to know who we are, naturally, what we are going to do, and so forth. W

the night, returning to Helensville next day. Old Colonial, it seems, is away up the river somewhere, but is

elves. Barracks be hanged! Is it likely that we are to be allowed to go there while the Mayor has a comfortable house in which to receive guests? Not

not to look after new-chums? Besides, on his own sole responsibility, he has turned the immigrant barracks into a warehouse for produce, since no immigra

house it is, quite a surprise to us, who hardly expected home-comforts in the

e full enough of housework already, without the additional care of looking after a couple of helpless, unready new-chums. But strangers are so rare

s of the night. We hear a stamping on the verandah outside, a

, I say? Where

to say, rushes in upon us. He seizes our hands in a grip that brings the tears to our eyes, he shakes them up and down with vehem

we'll have a splendid time! Now we'll make this

true, hearty good-fellowship of the bu

ry as new-chums. In the pages that follow we will resume the story at a further date, when we have arrived at the full estat