winter under the southern alps—frost-bite—seeking sheep in the snow—the runaway.
in winter in these high latitudes, such as the upper rangitata, lying at the foot and immediately eastward of the great alpine range behind which the winter sun dipped at 3 o'clock in the afternoon, it was intensely cold, and instances of frost-bite were not uncommon. i recollect a poor young fellow, a bullock-driver on a neighbouring station, getting frost-bitten one night when he had lost his way in the snow. he knew nothing of it until he arrived at the station in the morning, when, on removing his boots his feet felt numb and dead, and no amount of rubbing had any effect in inducing a return of circulation. it soon transpired that his toes were frost-bitten. a messenger was despatched to the ashburton in hope of finding a doctor, but in vain, and the lad was sent to christchurch, 150 miles, in a covered dray. this, of course, took a considerable time, and when he arrived gangrene had set in, and both feet had to be amputated above the ankles.
when the snow falls in large quantities it becomes an anxious time for the sheep farmer, and if the flocks are not strong and healthy they are sure to suffer. in snowstorms, the sheep will seek the shelter of some hill or spur, collecting together on the lee side, and here they are sometimes drifted over, when if the snow does not remain beyond a certain period they are mostly safe. as the snow drifts over them the heat of their bodies keeps it melted within a certain area, while the freezing and increase of drift and falling snow continue above and beyond the circle. in this manner a compartment is formed underneath in which the animals live and, to some extent, move about. the existence of these habitations is discovered by the presence of small breathing holes on the surface leading from below like chimneys, and sheep will live in this manner for a fortnight or so. when they have eaten up all the grass and roots available they will feed on their own wool, which they tear off each other's backs, and chew for the grease contained in it.[pg 81]
for a fortnight we had been completely snowed up at mesopotamia. upon the homestead flat the snow was four feet deep, through which we cut and kept clear a passage between the huts, and for fifty yards on one side to the creek, where through a hole in the ice we drew water for daily use. fortunately we had abundance of food and a mob of sheep had previously been driven into one of the paddocks to be retained in case of emergency. the confined life was trying. we read, played cards, practised daily with the boxing gloves, and missed sorely the outdoor exercise. one day, however, we had a benefit of the latter which was a new experience to all of us.
the overseer was getting anxious about the sheep. once or twice distant bleating had been heard, but for some days it had ceased, and as he wished to satisfy himself of the safety of his flocks, we decided to make a party and go in search of them.
when last seen, before the heavy snow began to fall, the flocks of ewes and lambs were two miles from the homestead on the lea of the great spur forming the north extremity of the run, and it was in this direction the bleating was heard.
we arranged our party as follows: cook, brabazon, and i, with two station hands, were to start early the following morning, while two men remained at the huts to be on the look out for us, and if we were late in returning they had orders to follow up in our snow trail and meet us.
we each dressed as lightly as possible, and provided ourselves with stout pine staffs to assist us in climbing and feeling our way over dangerous localities. each of us carried a parcel of bread and meat, and a small flask of spirits was taken for use only in case of urgent necessity.
an expedition of this kind is always attended with danger. travelling through deep snow is exceedingly tiring, and the glare and glistening from its surface tends to induce sleepiness. many a man has lost his life from these causes combined when but a short distance from safety.
seeking sheep in the snow
seeking sheep in the snow.
we started in indian file, the foremost man breaking the snow and the others placing their feet in his tracks. when the leader, whose work was naturally the heaviest, got tired, he stepped aside, and the next in file took up the breaking, while the former fell into the rear of all, which is, of course, the easiest.
proceeding thus, we went on steadily for some hours, our route being by no means straight, as we had to utilise[pg 82] our knowledge of the ground and avoid dangerous and suspicious places. the aspect of a piece of country considerably changes in surface appearance under a heavy covering of snow where deep and extensive drifts have formed.
notwithstanding our deviations and undulating course, we made the summit of the great spur at midday. such a scene as here opened out before us is difficult to describe. if it had been a flat plain with the usual domestic accessories there would be only a dreary circumscribed and more or less familiar picture, but here we were among the silent mountains untouched by the hand of man, in the clearest atmosphere in the universe, with magnificent and varying panoramas stretching away from us on every side. to the north we could see far into the upper gorge of the rangitata, with its precipices and promontories receding point by point in bold outline to the towering peaks forty miles beyond, and below it the wide flats of the great river, with its broad bed and streams so rapid that they could not be frozen over. on the east the low undulating downs stretching away towards the plains, while westward they ran in huge spurs to the foot of the alpine range, towering 13,000 feet above us. turning southward was seen the lower gorge, with its hills almost meeting in huge precipitous spurs, with stretches of pine forests clothing their slopes.
turn where we would over those immense panoramas all was white, pure, dazzling, glittering white, with a deathlike stillness over all. no life, no colour, save a streak of grey-blue on the broad river bed, and the shadow thrown by the mountains in the depths of their frowning gorges. the cold grey cloudless sky itself was scarcely any contrast. it was a magnificent wilderness of snow, and we viewed it spell-bound till our eyes ached with the glare and we felt a strange desire to lie down and sleep.
such is invariably the attendant sensations under these circumstances, whence the danger. if one once gives way to the drowsiness and longing for rest, he is gone. the sleep comes quickly, but it is a sleep from which there is no awakening—hence the precautions taken on such an expedition to have as large a party of strong men as possible to assist each other in case of failure. the need for such caution was fully verified in our case.
we were fortunate in discovering a number of sheep on the leeward of the spur where the snow had drifted off[pg 83] and lay comparatively light, and some were feeding off the tops of tall snow grass which remained uncovered. in other places numbers were living under the snow as the breathing holes testified. the visit and inspection were as satisfactory as we hoped, and after a short rest and hasty lunch, we started on our return journey, which, as it would be in our old tracks, and for the most part downhill, would be very much easier than the previous one.
it was well that our homeward journey was easier, or the trip would not have ended as satisfactorily as it did. we all felt on starting that we had had nearly enough work, and looked forward longingly to the snug huts two miles distant. it was now half-past one, and by three o'clock darkness and severe frost would set in (indeed, it was freezing all day). we originally trusted to reach the station by that hour, but we had delayed longer with the sheep than we should have.
we proceeded manfully and had accomplished about half the distance when cook, who had been exhibiting signs of weariness, suddenly "sat down in his tracks," and asked for some grog, which was given him. this revived him somewhat, and we again got under weigh, keeping him in the rear, but after a little while he again succumbed, and said he could go no further. he was quite happy, only looked a bit dazed, said he was tired and sleepy, and begged us to go on, and send a man and horse for him. this was what we feared. he was too far gone to remember that a horse could not walk where we had come. there was nothing for it but to carry, or assist him as best we could, and keep him moving, for if we had left him he would have frozen dead in half an hour. with this fear we received new strength, and two by two, we half carried and half dragged him for some distance when we were met by the hut keeper, and the remaining station hand, an old man, by name darby—who, as agreed, had left to seek us, fearing some accident. with this additional assistance cook was carried the remaining distance, and laid, now quite asleep, on a cot, where we rubbed his extremities with snow, till circulation returned, and then let him sleep, which he did, and indeed which we all did, until very late the following day.
the same winter a sad accident occurred on a run south of canterbury, belonging to two brothers, by name, i think, mckenzie. they went alone to visit their sheep in the snow, and when returning, the elder got tired and could not pro[pg 84]ceed. he contentedly sat down, desiring his brother to go on to the station and send him assistance. the latter, fearing nothing, left him, and when the assistance arrived the man was found dead.
the close of winter was now coming on, and the snow was fast thawing from the mountains, while the river flats were almost clear where drifts had not formed. with the thaw the rangitata came down in great volume, a sea of yellow foaming water a quarter of a mile in width.
during the time we were snowed up the mob of horses came almost every day to the stock yard for rock salt and we now took the opportunity to retain three, as the ground was clear enough for riding. i had brought with me from christchurch a new purchase in the form of a big rawboned gelding, fresh off board ship from melbourne, and had turned him to graze with the other horses on the run. he was now in splendid condition.
when we were all mounted the gelding showed some inclination to buck, but went away quietly after all, and we cantered along to the bank of the river. returning, we wished to try the paces of our nags, and started for a race. my animal then showed his temper, and after a few bucks, which did not unseat me, he fairly bolted. i had only a light snaffle on him, while his mouth was like iron. the bridle, too, was old as ill-luck would have it, or i might have succeeded in stopping him; but after a few moments of vain endeavour to do so, the rein broke at the ring of the snaffle, and he was free. with a vicious shake of the head he threw the bit from his mouth and headed for the downs, where i knew there was a large tract of burnt "irishman" scrub, into which, if he took me, i would be torn to pieces.
in an instant's thought i decided to get clear of him, then kicking my feet, as i thought, out of the stirrups, i sprang off. i remembered nothing more till i woke up, two hours later, in a cot in the hut, with an aching head and stiff back. the others said i could not have cleared both feet from the stirrups when i jumped, for it seemed to them that i was dragged for an instant. at any rate, i struck the ground on the back of my head and shoulders, and lay stunned; they first thought me lifeless. the huts were near, and i was carried up and resuscitated. the following day i was sufficiently recovered to give the gelding a lesson in running away he had cause to remember.
