In the mid-1860s the Otago Daily Times published a lively series of articles titled ‘‘Rambles Round Dunedin’’.
The correspondent, writing under the pseudonym ‘‘Pakeha’’, braved bush, bogs and vicious stinging nettles to provide a remarkably prescient picture of the Dunedin district and its rapid development in the boom years of the gold rush.
These stories are reproduced with the original variations of now accepted spellings.
Pine Hill
For some time past, Pakeha has had very little time for rambling, having had a number of other matters to attend to; but he has determined this fine day to have a tour for a few hours, and has selected the above-named beautiful district as the scene.
Perhaps in no other locality round Dunedin are the marks of progress so vividly visible as on Pine Hill.
What was, little more than three years ago, an almost unbroken forest, is now a series of farms and clearings, with snug little homesteads, fine crops of oats, potatoes, etc, plenty of horses and cattle, poultry, etc, reflecting much credit on the enterprising settlers.
The hill itself consists of a series of eminences, rising beyond each other till they culminate in Mount Cargill, the whole being a good deal cut up by deep rugged gullies.
The soil, except on the very top of the ranges, where it is rather stoney, is in general very good, and capable of raising any sort of crop, though of course the labour of reducing it to anything like a proper state of tilth must be immense; and have of necessity to be spread over a number of years.
At least ten years must elapse ere the stumps of the trees can be so rooted out as to allow of the free passage of the plough. But let us take the road.
The day is one of those warm days of our later summer, with a light nor'-west breeze blowing; the extreme heat of the sun being tempered by frequent clouds.
We leave town by George street.
After crossing Duke street, the most northerly east-and-west street in the town, we have a very fair sample of what the streets of Dunedin were but a very short time ago, before the advent of the City Engineer.
The street-line is studded with the stumps of huge trees - three, four, or five feet through, the trees themselves, or rather all that is left of them, (for the firewood of the neighbourhood has been long supplied from this and such like spots) lying prostrate here and there between.
It is almost a pity the timber was not utilised in some way when it was felled, rather than allowed to rot away as so much of it has done in the north end of town.
A very substantial piece of fluming crosses the road here, carrying about a dozen sluiceheads of water from the Leith, and driving the wheel of the flour mills a short distance further on.
Some fine well cultivated gardens surrounding pretty cottages adjoin the road, which ends in the Town Belt.
But a track leads down to the bed of the Leith, here nearly dry, and crossing by the stones, we are soon in the shade of the trees, no inconsiderable advantage on such a warm day.
The flat on both sides of the stream is of a very fertile nature, and as a consequence some of the trees are very large, particularly the pines, though the best of these trees have been ruthlessly cut down.
Like everything else in Dunedin and its neighbourhood, nearly all that is dulce has been sacrificed to the utile.
I wonder if this disposition has been brought to the country by the founders of the colony, or whether it is due to the indiscriminate rush of population consequent on the gold discoveries.
But let us locomote.
Leaving the bank of the stream, a short ascent brings us on to the road to Pine Hill.
This road, for a good way up, is a sidling cut on the face of the hill, and in its progress makes some wonderful screws, as if the engineer had acted on Hogarth's famous line of beauty - the curve; instead of taking, as those engineers of old, the Romans - the straight line.
A little way up a very fine and varied view opens to our gaze, quite an amphitheatre.
Away down on the left lies the Bay, the Peninsula, and the blue ocean beyond; nearer we have the north end of the town, and the various works, etc, at the Water of Leith.
In front is the deep valley and the steep wooded ascent of Maori Hill, topped by the pretty cottages and gardens of that pleasant township.
To the right we have the forest, only broken into at wide intervals, leading right away up to Flagstaff, Ross's Creek, etc.
Here and there a white house, surrounded with its patch of green and yellow, smiles out on us in the bright sunshine, but all the ground in this direction is covered with the same uniform tint of dark, almost sombre, green of the Otago bush.
At a turn in the road here stands a fine brick villa, Dalmore House, the residence of H. Orbell, Esq.
After clearing a patch of manuka, and getting on another half mile, the prospect opens considerably, and the whole of the Halfway-bush and the Waikari districts lie before us, apparently gradually rising from the deep valley of the Leith at our feet.
Great progress has been made in these districts in the clearing of land, and the labours of the sturdy pioneers seem well rewarded by the fine crops which now enliven the scene.
On the road side here we passed a real bit of home view.
A number of men and women were busily at work in a field harvesting a crop of oats, the scythe and the sickle both going merrily.
We were writing the above notes on a stump at the roadside, when happening to lift our hand for a moment, a sudden puff of wind came, and away over the fence went the loose leaves of our note book.
The ground inside was covered with thick scrub, and we found the task of following our copy one of no small difficulty.
However, at the cost of some scratches and some climbing it was all recovered.
A considerable portion of the town supply of firewood is brought from this quarter, and we can observe all round the gaps which have been made in the manuka forest, the trees in which have a most peculiar appearance, standing straight up like a wall.
The road is lined here and there by large heaps of cut firewood, ready to be carted into town.
A little way further on the made road ends and becomes only a track, covered with boulders, and interrupted every yard or two by stumps, rendering walking very toilsome.
Here also we passed some more harvesting, but the ground being newer, only the sickle could be used, the stumps standing thick in the field.
Not feeling inclined to go much further in this direction, we turned back a little, and then striking across a paddock to the left, we entered the bush, trusting to our own perseverance to find our way over to the N. E. Valley.
After a little while a small clearing laid down in oats was met, and our advent disturbed a large flock of paroquets feeding on the nearly ripe grain.
They took to the trees about, and commenced such a chattering as if each one was giving its individual voice on our encroachment.
These birds are wonderfully good talkers, and they may be taught to say almost any phrase; indeed as we sat and listened to them, it did not require much stretch of the fancy to make words out of what they were chattering and screaming.
Leaving the oats we had a rather tough scramble for a bit, emerging at last in the open on the other side of the hill.
Here we had the lower part of the valley in sight, bounded by the Signal Hill range.
At the edge of the bush we came on a patch of enormous thistles, quite rivalling those spoken of by Sir F. Head on the Pampas of South America.
By way of keeping down the plague, we amused ourselves by going through the sword exercise with our stick against them, till our arm was wearied and the ground cumbered with the slain.
Working our way down a gully on this side, we passed some of the finest fern trees we have met with in the district.
Here, too, we heard the sound, most musical to a thirsty man on a warm day, of falling water, and we soon found a little spring running over some stones.
To improvise a spout with a couple of dried leaves was the work of a twinkling, and we had the pleasure of a draught of cool, clear, delicious water.
The gully ended in a large clearing, from which all the timber has been removed to town, being principally manuka. Here we found a road, or rather series of tracks running up the hill in various ways to the edges of the bush, where there were folks at work, and the sharp clep-clep of the axe sounded all about.
Taking the track down, we soon reached some houses, and emerged from the hills on the flat part of the valley, the fields on both sides of the road being covered with beautiful strong crops of oats, quite a credit to the farmer, whoever he may be.
This road brought us out on the Main North Road, about two and a half miles from town.
So, after a steady walk of about half an hour on the level road, which was almost a rest when compared with the rough tracks on the hills and in the bush, we reached home, very much pleased with our afternoon's stroll.
- Pakeha.
