THE KEA COUNTRY. 21 



Behind, runnino: away to the east, the Rakaia cuts its 

 way, first for fourteen miles over a shingle-bed about a mile 

 wide, and then, for another eight, rushing through a narrow 

 defile amid some of the grandest gorge scenery of the 

 Dominion. 



Away to the left the Mt. Hutt Range continues, until it 

 meets the Arrowsmith Range, capped with snow and girdled 

 with glaciers, standing across the valley. To the right is 

 Peak Hill's lower range, ending in a sharp point, — Mt. 

 Oakden, cut off from the Rolleston Range by the Wilberforce 

 stream, which has been strengthened above by the lesser 

 Harper and Avoca. 



All around, the mountain sides are weathered into great 

 shingle slips, marching down to take possession of the plain, 

 debouching here, uniting forces there, now in file, then in 

 column, but always met by the indomitable tussock. The 

 fight goes on, but the tussock is here unbeaten ; life tells ; 

 "a living dog is better than a dead lion." 



But these shingle slides — which for size and abundance 

 are said to be seen nowhere else in the world, and accounted 

 for by brittle strata and very sudden changes in temperature 

 — are an annoyance to the traveller. Travelling is frightfully 

 heavy and slow ; and any attempt to ascend their shifting 

 stretches is heart-breaking. 



As might be expected, over this vast wilderness sparse 

 settlement only is possible. A few lonely homesteads, each 

 with its shearing sheds and shepherds' huts, are all that can 

 be found in the way of dwellings. The attendant sheds and 

 huts are often separated from each other, and from the 

 central dwelling, by miles of mountain range and stony 

 river-bed. Each homestead is the centre of a sheep-station, 

 which often includes many mountain chains. Life in the 

 central dwelling is as a rule rigorous and lonely enough for the 

 most austere hermit. News from the outer world filters in 

 uncertainly, and usually with intervals of many weeks. For the 

 lonely musterer, or shepherd, in his detached hut, the life is 

 even worse. Little wonder that now and again one becomes 

 mad or misanthropic. 



