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“The fact is, in my humble judgment, the N.Z. Railways have undergone what may be called a re-birth, and are now rendering excellent service in a spirit of courtesy and goodwill, which is everywhere manifest.“—From Wm. Thomson, Editor “The New Zealander,” 5/1/33.
I hereby cerjpgy that the publisher's lists and other records disclose that the circulation of the “New Zealand Railways Magazine” has not been less than 20,000 copies each issue since July, 1930.
Deputy-Controller and Auditor-General.
Hanmer Lodge (South Island, New Zealand) and its scenic side trips. (Reached by rail from Christchurch, thence motor.)
The million and a half of people who populate New Zealand have many worthy world's records to their credit, including the lowest infant mortality and the lowest death rate; but their national record of production for export is perhaps the most striking proof they have to offer of what can be done by a virile British stock planted in a country favourably dowered by Nature.
After less than a hundred years of occupation the statistics of the Dominion's primary production read like romance. The “farm population” constitutes one-fourth of the Dominion total, and of these the number of people engaged in farming is almost 140 thousand. This army of primary producers certainly have something to shew for their efforts. They occupy 43 million acres, run nearly four million cattle, keep half a million pigs, and nearly four million poultry, own over 30 million sheep and a quarter of a million horses. To help them in their work they keep over twenty thousand milking machines busy, morning and night, beating the lilt of the cowshed serenade, and, between-whiles, they drive four thousand agricultural tractors. The farmers of New Zealand crop 1 ¾ million acres, of which more than half is in turnips, oats and wheat, and they have planted 25 thousand acres of orchards. The average yield per acre is also something of a record—32 bushels of wheat, 40 of oats, 36 of barley, and 48 of maize. Developments in dairying have also been amazing. The average return of butterfat in 1930 was 218 lbs. per cow, or nearly 100 lbs. per cow more than at the beginning of this century.
From these resources and activities and aided by modern transport, including over 3000 miles of railways, productive New Zealand now exports annually about 3 ½ million hundredweight of butter and cheese (this being the second highest exporting country in the world for each of these products), over 200 million pounds of wool, eight million carcases of mutton and lamb, half a million hundredweight of beef, and thirty million feet of timber, besides substantial quantities of other products — animal, vegetable and mineral. In 1930 the export trade was valued at £45 millions, and the total value of Dominion production, both primary and secondary (excluding that from holdings of less than one acre, and home products), was almost £120 millions, or £80 per head of population.
The whole of the foregoing records provides a picture of production of which any country might be proud, and jusjpgies the sanguine faith of New Zealanders in the ultimate bright destiny of this sunny, smiling land. And the whole of this amazing
The report of the conference on Rail and Road Transport issued in August last by the committee presided over by Sir Arthur Salter is a triumph for sensible compromise between rail and road interests in Great Britain, and a tribute to the good judgment brought to the question by both parties to the conference, as well as to the negotiatory skill of the chairman. That the report is unanimous makes the achievement all the more remarkable. In commenting upon the report the railway companies invited special attention to the following aspects:—
(1) The report is unanimous. Its unanimity is necessarily based upon give and take. Each side conceded to the other many points to which they attached weight, because they considered it more important to present to the Minister a body of agreed recommendations rather than to stress the natural and important points of difference.
(2) The report covers a narrow field—the conveyance of goods traffic by road or rail—but although the field is limited, the body of recommendations must be looked at and treated as a whole. This follows naturally from the process of give and take, out of which these recommendations came into being.
(3) When the railway companies earlier in the year drew public attention to the effects of the competition existing between the two forms of transport, they emphasised the fact that they aimed only at establishing an equitable adjustment of the balance of conditions as between the railway and the road transport industries, which is clearly essential to the co-ordination of transport in the public interest. Throughout the deliberations of the conference this aim has been kept in view by their representatives, and the result is clearly reflected in the findings of the conference. Neither party seeks to claim special advantages or to impose special burdens on the other. The ultimate aim of both is to secure a fair basis of competition as a necessary stage towards the attainment of the best co-ordination of function, and whilst the report does not purport to find a complete solution, it represents a carefully thought-out scheme which, regarded as a whole, represents a definite advance towards a sound basis of co-ordination.
(4) The first duty of the conference was to consider the incidence of highway costs. Just how those costs should be borne has been one of the most difficult problems which the conference has had to solve, and its solution has involved a considerable modification of the principles originally adumbrated by the railway companies, and their assimilation with alternative theories advanced by the road representatives. The result, with its combination of franchise value, ton-mileage and petrol consumption as a measure of the use and wear and tear of the roads, forms a basis which the railway companies have indicated their willingness to accept.
(5) The proposals with regard to the regulation and licensing of freight road vehicles follow a principle already adopted in the case of passenger transport. The conference have evolved a scheme which should best serve the public interest as a whole, whilst avoiding undue restrictions on the road haulage industry on the one hand and the ancillary user of road transport on the other hand.
(6) An important part in the future development of the relations between road and rail is reserved for the Advisory Committee, representative of all the interests concerned, whose function it will be to advise the Minister on many points affecting the regulation and co-ordination of transport. This committee will, it is hoped, be in a position to ensure that those developments are guided along lines which will be in conformity with the best interests of the industry of the country as a whole.
Rotorua's Popular Warm Mineral Bath.
Rly. Publicity photos.)
The new Ward Bath opened recently at Rotorua, North Island, N.Z., is proving a great attraction to visitors to the thermal wonderland town. The illustrations shew a day and night scene at the bath.
The latest figures available in regard to the Department's business shew that, despite the general slackness of trade, the Railways are rather more than holding their own in the matter of net returns of revenue, the improvement, as already announced, amounting to £73,175 for the financial year to the 10th December. At this stage in the previous year our passengers by rail and road services shewed a decline of nearly four millions in numbers: in the current year the decline is only fifty-four thousand, shewing that the position is rapidly approaching equilibrium.
A similar comparison of freight shews that whereas last year's decrease at the end of 36 weeks was nearly one million tons, this year's decline for the corresponding term is less than one-fifth of that amount.
However well the Railways may be doing in regard to the proportion they secure of the total business offering, there is always some margin of business which a right attitude on the part of the staff may help to obtain. Among useful aids to more business are keenness, knowledge and courtesy. By keenness I mean the sharp desire, interest and alertness of members in attracting possible passengers or senders of freight to the rail. By knowledge is inferred the double advantage which study gives in business matters when the facilities of the undertaking are fully known to the staff and when they properly appreciate the needs and desires of customers. By courtesy is pictured those attributes which make customers feel that they are being helped and shewn consideration in a likeable manner. All indications shew that in these matters the staff is giving, in general, excellent service.
Organised as the Department is at present, it is surprising how low is the proportion of additional cost involved in handling additional business secured. For most lines of business, the additional cost would not be more than from 10 per cent. to 20 per cent. of the standard charges, which in most cases are already so low that they defy competition on any sound economic basis. But the result is that out of every additional £1 now spent by the public for railway service, 16/- to 18/- goes straight to the Consolidated Fund and acts as a general relief to taxation. Here is surely very genuine reason, from the public angle, why every person should, whenever possible, send his goods by rail and why any spending for travel—whether for business or pleasure—should be done by rail. Every penny spent in this way, besides buying good service, helps the Government and people of the Dominion towards financial recovery.
Acting General Manager.
What is a Free State?—Right and Might.—Filipinos and Manchurians—Shall America Withdraw?—Japan and the League.
A Mericans who ask what business Britain has in India are also liable to ask themselves, occasionally, what business the United States have in the Philippine Islands. Failing to discover in what way the new American title deeds in those islands are superior to the old British title deeds in the East, a good many Americans seek withdrawal, and a Philippine Independence Bill has passed the House of Representatives over President Hoover's veto. But what American anti-Imperialists may gain in consistency, the Filipinos, according to the retiring President, will lose in practical result. The Philippine Islands may be freed, but at the price of their “economic downfall.” This argument has a familiar ring, and it will be seen that the Pax Americana is not much different from the Pax Britannica or even the Pax imposed by the Romans. Mr. Hoover tries to get away from that precedent by suggesting an independence plebiscite in fifteen or twenty years.
Pending the arrival of the Democratic regime, it is likely that the Senate will not help the House of Representatives to rush the subject, but sooner or later it will have to be faced. The bedrock question is whether self-determination is a right of every unit—a right to be realised immediately—or whether each case calls for its own specific treatment according to practical rather than academic rules. Irak passing from a mandated status to membership of the League of Nations is one glimpse of the evolution of racial units. A united China (lacking in unity) provides another and a quite different aspect. Very significantly, in opposing the House, Mr. Hoover “pointed to the chaotic situation in the Orient,” where China and Japan have quite different notions as to what constitutes “self-determination” in Manchuria. Some people would make India like China, and some would make China like India.
The chaos that Mr. Hoover sees in the Orient, and fears in an independent Philippine State, could come to India if India were turned adrift as a “united” nation with no real control over its several parts. Nationhood means not only right; it also requires might; if not might in an external theatre, then at least sufficient internal strength to hold the several parts together and to make government effective internally. What
Any reasoning along the lines of a parallel (which probably is no real parallel) is liable to be faulty, but if the Japanese read the Philippine position as meaning Philippine Right depending upon American Might, they may consider the hand of Japan in Manchuria as equally excusable. They have concealed that hand, to a certain extent, behind a Manchurian Right, but it does not prevail against Chinese Right in the judgment of the Lytton Commission, which has reported against the recognition of Manchuria (Manchukuo). Meanwhile, the Japanese army is driving the Chinese farther back, and China is said to be despairing of any hope that a League of Nations dictum as to “What is Right” will have any effective force against “What Is.” The League wrestles with the problem while this is being written.
At one time publicity through broadcasting was feared. Politicians believed that to broadcast statements on political or controversial subjects would cause international and internal explosions. Some of the worst kinds of political propaganda had been put on the air in various countries, and there was some feeling in Britain that in controversial matters the broadcast would have to be dumb. But the peculiarly constituted British Broadcasting Corporation, which is neither a private profit-maker nor a political department, has waded so carefully into the seas of controversy that it is reaching the public with heaps of live information from big authorities on all kinds of issues (example, Lord Lytton on the Manchurian Commission) and the explosions have been few. The settled dispute with Poland, concerning a broadcast reference to Polish spending on armaments, will, it is hoped, be the exception that proves the rule.
Even at this distance from the Old Country, and without (as yet) having the advantage of hearing the broadcasts, anyone who reads the reprints of them must be impressed with the excellence of the matter. Judged by their writing, speakers of first-class authority are conveying to millions of hearers an education hardly available even to an intensive reader of the magazine press. No magazine has proved itself to be editorially capable (or shall one say financially capable?) of producing so excellent and diversified an output of the thought of men of talent. From the racy outlines of events as told in the news columns of the daily press people can now turn to the broadcast for the real explanation—the fundamentals. It seems to be a triumph (so far, at any rate) of what may be called broadcast editorship. In other hands the thing could have been bungled.
The choice between punishing the taxpayer and punishing the Budget is still before the Governments of the world. Trade sees danger in taxes, but it also sees, danger in unbalanced Budgets. Britain is just as definitely in favour of a balanced Budget, as she is definitely off the gold standard, and it seems that nothing but the American interest (paid this time, perhaps for the last time, in gold) can upset that balance. That is one reason for hastening an international agreement to decrease debt burdens. Even without paying the American interest, France faces a big Budget deficit. So does Germany. All reports indicate a drift that only international action can stop; but critics who pretend to know the Roosevelt Democrat factor are venturing the prophecy that international debts (Governmental) will have ceased
Moving picture glimpses of what old time athletes did, compared with the intensive preparations of latter-day athletes, raise the question whether the spirit of amateurism remains, even where the letter of amateurism is fulfilled. The old idea of sport was not to make every post a winning post, but to-day specialisation seeks to close every loophole that may lead to defeat and opens every loophole in the opponent's armour. Every technical device is exploited, and the partition between the fair and the unfair is thin. Even cricket has lost all the village green simplicity. It is now claimed that there is a vital difference between bowling fast bumpers as an occasional event with an offside field, and bowling them systematically with a field on the leg side (the same side of the wicket as the batsman's body is on). This dispute may wreck the Tests in Australia, and has led to an Australian protest to the M.C.C.
The action of the British Air Ministry in ordering an autogiro is one of the most important flying events of the month, but is eclipsed in the public gaze (naturally) by the mystery of Hinkler, and, locally, by the fair weather flight of the Southern Cross from New South Wales to New Zealand in smart time. A good deal of air history is being made in Africa, by the Mollisons and others. British commercial services in Europe, also the African service, are reported to have exceeded expectations from the point of view of traffic, regularity and safety. In a different order of flight is the plan to fly over the peak of Everest, later in the year. The chief pilot of the expedition will probably be the eldest son of the Duke of Hamilton and Brandon, the Marquis of Douglas and Clydesdale, flier, amateur boxer and M.P. The influenza epidemic now alarming England removed a notable airwoman in Miss Winifred Spooner.
Train of 16 Cars Hauled by Locomotive K900.
(From the W. W. Stewart collection).
The special train (at Penrose Station Auckland), run in connection with the Children's Christmas Treat Celebration at Otahuhu Workshops.
There are some cynics who say that New Zealand's summer is merely the bit where the end of last winter joins the beginning of next winter. There are others who aver that New Zealand's only two seasons are the wet and the not-so-wet, while many maintain that there is nothing wrong with New Zealand's weather except the weather.
But climate, like socks, soap and socialism, is merely a matter of personal preference; some like it hot, some like it cold, and some prefer a climatic cocktail. Thus the winter which is too dry for the farmer is too wet for the golfer, the summer which is a drought in the country is a drip in the city, and the spring which is too early for the late worm is too late for the early bird. Autumn, of course, is the season of sadness, when the multitude mourns either that summer is gone or that it never arrived. But autumn hardly can be called a season because if it is wet it is the beginning of winter, and if it is dry it is the end of summer.
The truth is that New Zealand's climate is like every citizen who has managed to keep out of gaol—good enough to keep the country out of trouble. It escapes such exorbitant exigencies as Manchuria, where the country is under the ice in the winter and over the odds in the summer; or Sighbeeria, where in the winter the Sighbeerians reel in hopeless sleet, and in summer peel in soapless heat; or Iceland, where the only two seasons are “the night before” and “the morning after.”
True, New Zealand has more sunlight than many lands, but as it is spread more or less evenly over the year, there are no large lumps lying about on any particular part.
Noth/ing on this whirling wen of wheel and woe is certain, except the uncertainty of “certainties;” but speaking in round figures (which usually amount to nought) even if November is equinoctial and December is equinoxious, February can be relied upon to give a rendering of “the good old summer time” with prevarications.
January, being the first bout in the annual meteorological mix-up, often “mixes it” through utter exuberance and sheer sherbet, but February can be relied on to knock spots off the sun and sock the solar solecisms.
February is the picnician period of the year, when man, the whirled forgetting by the whirled forgot, peels off the sartorial sanctions of synthetic sapience and offers his bare body as a burnt offering to old King Sol; when he rolls, romps and rambles in oneness with the worm, the wop and the wasp, and is of the earth earthy and the sand sandy.
There are many brands of picnic, but genially speaking, when two or more are gathered together round a basket, a billy,
The harried “homo” formulates picnics as a form of revolt against the dehumanisation of civilisation, which otherwise would make him so perfect that he would find it impossible to live with himself. The picnic removes the tyranny of the cloying coat, the decadent “cady” and the stuljpgying stud. Once and again he dumps these dampening detriments of democracy and calls Beelzebub's bluff in the buff. He grapples with his “grub” with his bare hands, and in every possible way defies the dominance of Hurry and Scurry, the twin gods of the Go-getters.
When the sun shines like an illuminating slice of golden syrup, the breeze is as light and warm as a gas-man's caress, and all nature glows and palpitates like a new-moan chilblain, he packs a hardboiled specimen of the poulterer's art, a sitting of sandwiches, and the everfaithful banana, and goes hence to fill the gaps in the wide open spaces. Some prefer to ponder in ozoneous ease at the ocean's edge; some like to tackle the perpendicular preponderancies of Nature with hob-nailed socks, alpenstocks and optimism. But wherever they go and however they go, they perpetrate the picnic to escape the mummery of Modernity and the little stings that discount commercial conquest.
Nature never intended Man to roost under a roof. The only dome he needed was the airodome. But when he began to sacrifice the business of living for the living of business, he was afraid to accept the fact that the sky was the limit; so he undermined the sky with roofing material so that his activities should not be distracted by ideals higher than himself. But deep down below his internal cashregister there always lurks the old Adam who prefers the greenwood tree to the grim roof-tree, and A.I.R. to L.S.D. Thus whenever he can square his conscience and his creditors, he chains up the cash-box, double-crosses the double entry, and throws a picnic. Lambasted liltingly, the situation is as follows:—
There are many ways of promulgating a picnic, but the permanent way is the way of all flesh. When you picnic by rail, the picnic begins where the pavement ends; from the moment you are parked in the rolling stock, cares slip from you like oysters on an escalator. There is something about a train which breathes of freedom combined with speedom. A railway carriage is saturated with the anticipations, aspirations and salutations of all the picnickers it has ever whirled to the wide and free. It is the casket containing the picnician spirit.
Thoughts are as real as raspberries; they are the minted coin of the mind and continue to circulate for long after they are uttered. They rattle and roll about the subconscious counting house. Thus a railway carriage carries a rolling stock of all the happy thoughts left behind to jingle about its precincts. It tinkles and tingles with joyous feeling; it exudes the spirit of exultation. Its leather and wood and steel and brass wink and twinkle and murmur of merry moments, perpetuated in perpetuity. The railway carriage opens its heart to you as you open its door. It is adventurous, daring, cheerful, practical and poetical. It is more than a means to an end—it is an end in itself, an end to care.
It whispers to you of other picnics past, when Uncle Julius brought his accordian and played “Daisy Bell” and “The Anchor's Weighed.” It murmurs of past home-comings, of flushed faces, of tired but happy eyes, of ferns and flirtations of past days, and the joy of a deed well done. It whispers of Sunday-school treats when its timber and steel palpitated with the packed vitality of flaming youth. It echoes the songs it has shared, the laughter it has heard, and all the warm eager life it has transported. No wonder it breathes the spirit of freedom and the love of humanity. No wonder it represents the perfect pantechnicon for picnic parties. “Picnic by rail” is the advice of experience. Let us put it to patter:
(Rly. Publicity photos.)
Scenes at the Children's Grand Free Christmas Carnival held at the Hutt Valley Workshops, Wellington, 17th December, 1932. (1) Arrival of the special train at the shops; (2) opening ceremony by the Works Manager; (3) Russian duo dance; (4) dancers on stage; (5) acrobatic clowns; (6) “All Aboard for Fun Land”; (7) Golliwog dance; (8) Workshops Band; (9) Maori Entertainers; (10) Waiting to enter the Magic Cave; (11) Father Xmas and his helpers; (12) Locomotive K901—a workshops product; (13) Charlie Chaplin; (14) and (15) beauty show.
When the public see on the Dunedin railway station a poster that has been painted as an advertisement for the next mystery train they will praise it as the work of someone who has the makings of a clever and imaginative artist (says the Dunedin Star). The subject is a long train rounding a curve at the toe of a snow-topped mountain. The engine front transformed into the image of a laughing fur-clad hiking lady, the funnel smoke woven into a jolly message to on-lookers. Mr. Bert Marsh, one of the reserve porters, has worked out the design most skilfully.
* * *
“The popularity of the Railway Department's Sunday excursions was well exemplified in the case of the large train which left Dunedin for Timaru with practically a full complement of passengers a few Sundays ago (says the Otago Daily Times). The early hour of departure did not appear to deter many from taking advantage of the cheap rates offered, and the Railway Station was a scene of unaccustomed activity just before the departure of the train at 7.20, the total number travelling being 664. There were fifteen cars on the train when it started on its 130-mile journey, and it was found necessary to add two more cars at Oamaru. The excursionists were favoured with true Summer weather conditions and the journey was consequently a decidedly pleasant one, the train arriving at Timaru on time and just before the excursion train from Christchurch, which also brought a large number of holiday-makers to Caroline Bay. The beach, always a strong attraction for visitors to Timaru, provided the majority of the travellers with picnic sites, and not a few took advantage of the warm weather to enjoy a swim in the surf or to bathe in the sunshine during the greater part of the day. Small boats were also in considerable demand, many of the visitors spending enjoyable hours on the placid surface of the harbour.”
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Marked improvement in the interior lighting of many London termini affords a reminder of the striking developments effected in railway lighting generally in the past decade. Better lighting arrangements ensure safe and speedy working and attract business. In station lighting, the aim at Home is to present to the eye of the observer, looking along the length of the platform, a clear view, unimpeded by dazzling spots of light, exposed mantles or filaments being cleverly screened. Electric metal filament lamps are usually employed. In the interior illumination of signal-boxes, local screened lights, illuminating the dials and levers, but leaving the remainder of the room in subdued brightness, have become general.
Flood lighting of the exterior of railway premises is a favoured development, while ingenious lighting equipment is utilised at many stations in connection with train and platform indicators. Several railways, as for example the London and North Eastern and the Southern, have relegated responsibility for the whole of the lighting over their lines to a single official, a move that has proved distinctly helpful.
In his present contribution, Mr. Stead gives some interesting particulars of the plan recently adopted for the pooling of receipts of the two largest railway companies in the Homeland (the L.M. & S. and L. & N.E.), and tells what the railways are doing to improve both their passenger and freight services.
Home railway efficiency promises to be fostered materially as a result of an ambitious working agreement entered into between the two largest group lines—the London, Midland and Scottish, and the London and North Eastern. Since the introduction of railway grouping under the Railways Act of 1921, a great deal has been accomplished in the endeavour to secure more efficient and economical operation through the elimination of redundant services, the simplification of joint-line working arrangements, and the cutting-out of needless competition as between one group railway and another. Now, however, much more far-reaching schemes are being tackled, and the pooling plan of the L.M. and S. and L. and N.E. lines stands out as an exceptionally bold and intelligently-conceived scheme for meeting modern requirements.
In brief, the plan provides for an elaborate system of pooling of receipts, based upon the gross receipts of each of the companies between selected competitive points for the years 1928, 1929 and 1930. Striking the average of these, there is ascertained the proportions for the division of the combined receipts in future years between the parties concerned. Wasteful competition in the provision of services between points served by both railways will be eliminated, and the result of the arrangement will be to direct all traffic into its natural economic route. The resources and equipment of both companies will be employed for their common interest between places where their interests were previously divergent, and apart from the avoidance of outlay on duplication services, economies will ensure in respect of advertising, town office arrangements, canvassing, cartage work, and other outlay accompanying competition.
It has been suggested that this agreement between the two largest Home railway groups is a preliminary to the complete unification of the four systems. While it seems certain that eventually one single railway undertaking will take the place of the four groups, authoritative opinion is that this complete merger will not be accomplished for many years. As a step towards complete unification, the agreement will have its uses. In the meantime it should prove of the greatest
Ireland has of late been much in the limelight, and a little more than usual has been heard of the somewhat neglected railways of Erin's Isle—neglected, that is, from the viewpoint of publicity. Politics, as such, do not come within the scope of these Letters, but there can be no doubt the partition of Ireland into sections—the Free State and Northern Ireland—has not been helpful to railway operation. The Irish railways, however,
A British-Built Express Passenger Locomotive.
One of the new three-cylinder compound engines introduced on the G.N. Railway of Ireland
The new G.N. locomotives have a steam pressure of 250lb. per square inch. The high-pressure cylinder measures 17 ¼ in. by 26in., and the two low-pressure cylinders 19in. by 26in. Total heating surface is 1,527.5 sq. ft., grate area 25.22 sq. ft., and tractive effort 23,762lb. Weight of engine and tender in full working order is 103 tons. Utilisation of these new locomotives in the Dublin-Belfast fast passenger services is resulting in a reduction in journey time of half-an-hour over the 112 ½ miles run, while an engine of the new type is covering the 54 ½ miles between Dublin and Dundalk in 54 minutes.
In these difficult times railways must lose no opportunity of securing every scrap of traffic offering. Through intelligent adaptation to the needs of the public, the Home railways are securing good passenger business arising out of the “hiking” craze that has swept through the country, by conveying hikers out of the congested cities to suitable spots from which to begin their walks.
Each Home railway issues handbooks for hikers, containing details of walks from various centres. The running of special trains for hikers is the latest week-end innovation. On these trains, a passenger pays a fixed sum for travel, and until the train actually starts, its destination is a mystery. Immediately the journey has begun, attendants pass down the train and supply information as to its destination, along with printed details of suitable hikes, details regarding return train times, refreshment
While passenger business is now at its height, the Home railways are not neglecting the freight side. Goods trains all over Britain are being accelerated, and the examination of the current time-books reveals some remarkably fast running.
An Anglo-Irish Travel Link.
L.M. and S. “Irish Mail” arriving at Holyhead from London.
Between Camden Station, London, and Edge Hill, Liverpool, the London, Midland and Scottish Company is running a daily non-stop freight service covering the 191 miles without a single stop. Between King's Cross Station, London, and Glasgow and Aberdeen, the London, and North Eastern line operates what is probably the fastest freight train in the world. This averages 43 miles an hour over the 334 ¾ miles separating London from Berwick-on-Tweed. Between Peterborough and York, on the southern section of the route 112 miles are covered non-stop at 44 m.p.h. The longest through freight train at Home runs from Aberdeen to London, 545 miles. Freight despatched from Aberdeen at 9.35 a.m. is unloaded in London at 11.25 p.m. the same day—a truly fine performance, of which any country might well be proud. Freight train time-tables are now issued by the Home railways to the public in just the same manner as passenger train time-tables. One system—the Great Western—has introduced an arrangement of guaranteed arrivals, and each of the group lines takes immense pains to ensure punctual freight train running.
The powerful locomotives employed in Britain for passenger and freight train haulage to-day, call for the utilisation of new equipment of every kind. Turntables, for instance, have to be of very robust and efficient design to stand up to present-day requirements.
The L. and N.E. line has introduced a new type of turn-table, the invention of Mr. Mundt, of the Dutch State Railways, and constructed by Ransomes and Rapier, of Ipswich. Only a very shallow pit is required, and none of the former “balancing” of the locomotive is needed. The table rests on shallow continuous girders, reinforced for a certain distance between the centre and the ends. Sixty per cent, of the load is carried on the centre pivot, and forty per cent, on the wheels or rollers at the table-ends. Turning is accomplished either by electric drive or hand winch through suitable gearing. The turning of the heaviest engine is accomplished
France leads in the European passenger train speed table, having 125 daily runs at an average speed of 56 ¼ m.p.h. or over. The 60 ½ m.p.h. maintained over 145 miles by the Quevy-Paris daily train is an outstanding run, while there are twenty-seven daily runs at 59 ½ m.p.h. and over, scattered throughout the various systems. New timings for the principal expresses out of Paris include a 67 ½ miles per hour flight between Paris-St. Quentin, in the case of the Nord Company's Berlin “Rapide”; and several runs of 62 ¼ m.p.h. on the State Railways between Paris and Rouen. In Germany the fastest service is that between Berlin and Hamburg (180 miles in 3 hours 14 minutes, average 55 ½ m.p.h.). In Belgium, average speeds of 54 ½ m.p.h. are maintained in the Brussels-Ostend run, while Holland has several runs of 48 m.p.h. between Amsterdam and Rotterdam. Very remarkable, having regard to the gradients encountered, are the accom plishments of the Swiss Railways. On the St. Gothard route, the 255-mile journey from Basle to Milan is performed at an average speed of 40 ½ m.p.h., this relatively fast running being secured through the employment of super-power electric locomotives.
The St. Gothard Railway, one of the world's most remarkable transportation undertakings, has just celebrated its fiftieth birthday. Completed in 1882, the line now ranks as an important link in cross-European transport, and as a most efficiently operated electric mountain railway.
The St. Gothard Railway Company was subsidised by the Swiss, Italian and German Governments. The most difficult construction work was the building of the St. Gothard tunnel between Goschenen and Airolo. Some 14,900 metres in length, the double-track tunnel took nine years to construct. This unique Swiss railway has been admired by engineers from every land, special features being the loop-tunnels and double-horseshoe curves introduced to negotiate the difficult country traversed. At Wassen, the tracks are actually laid at three levels one above the other, and are linked by ingenious spirals.
A Beauty Spot On The Paris-Lyons-Mediterranean Railway.
Beaulieu Station, on the picturesque Riviera.
This summer has seen more holiday-makers on the tramp for pleasure than ever before. Apart from those who take the longer train trips, there is the large body of young people, and others not so young, who use the railway to set them down at the nearest point to the jumping-off place, and then shoulder swag for the bush and the hills. There are not many parts of the North Island at any rate which are not penetrated at some time or other in vacation time by parties of vigorous young pikou bearers—with a considerable sprinkling of young women among them; for the girls are determined to benefit as much as the boys from the days of travel in the backblocks and over the ranges. This is all to the good; it means healthful and inexpensive pleasure in the open air, exercise which gives zest to life and new strength and energy for the tasks of the working year.
Only to the foot-slogger is known the complete joy of intimacy with the wilds, once the railway is left behind. The motorist speeding through regions of beauty can have, at his journey's end, only a somewhat vague and confused notion of the country he has traversed. He misses the peculiar spirit of the place, the secret charm of the hills and the forests that the tramper comes to know, because he has made himself one with the soil and the trees in his measured progress through the quiet places and his nightly camps on the breast of kindly Mother Earth.
And surely in all the world there is not a more friendly Earth for the camper-out than this New Zealand of ours. What country is more free from the terror that walks by night, or that crawls and strikes? I often think that New Zealanders do not perhaps, appreciate adequately their enormous boon of a bush that harbours no snakes or other poisonous creatures. The Australian or the American out-of-door man who makes the acquaintance of our bush finds it hard to divest his mind of the idea that snakes are likely to be about and that camping places are not safe until a good search is made for lurking reptiles. There was a visitor from Sydney who was
True, we have our mosquito, which is quite a sufficient nuisance, but it is not everywhere. Camping in such places as the Urewera Country and about the shores of the Rotorua lakes, I have never heard the buzz of the little naeroa. The camper-out in the great South Island forests, always moist, finds the mosquito voracious enough, but there are ways of circumventing the night-demon. Always may we thank Heaven, however, that there are no snakes.
The wise tramper and camper comes to realise that quite half the charm of a holiday journey consists in the interest that human associations give to a district. Mere scenery is not enough. So he, or she, makes some attempt to discover the history of the place, the origin and significance of the place-names, whatever is known of the past of mountain, river and lake. The geology, too, and the forest life; all work into a fascinating story when they are understood. Many of our “Mystery Train” trampers discovered quite a new world of interest in this way through the publications of the Railway Department. They had no idea that so much of history and legend and poetry attached to familiar scenes. As for new and unfamiliar places, they are vastly enhanced in interest when a little pains are taken to search out the recorded stories of the past as a preliminary to the journey.
Maps, too, are indispensable to a full understanding of this tramping country. Large scale maps of the district intended to be traversed are procurable from any Survey Office, and it will be found a useful plan to set down beforehand, in marginal notes or otherwise, brief memoranda concerning the places on the route. On the tramp, too, much can be added to these notes, from Maori and pakeha residents, of such a district as the King Country for example. The present writer has quite a collection of such route-maps of other days—but it must be said they were in a woefully tattered condition by the time the backblocks expeditions were over, and weather and wear had had their will of them.
Now and again some pessimistic person rises to complain in print of the want of romantic material for literature in New Zealand's history. Look at other countries, he says. Curious this ignorance of our own country's past. If ever there was a land with a stirring story compressed into a comparatively brief period, it is New Zealand with its history of say, 1820–1870. To restrict it even to this half-century, there is every possible element of adventure, endeavour, romance and heroic episode in the record of our Colonial life.
Such a man as the late Alexander Bell, of Taumarunui—to whom reference was made in past articles in the Railways Magazine while he was still in the land of the living—was in his day an answer in himself to those who questioned the lack of the stuff of which stories are made. This North of Ireland veteran, soldier, sailor, bushman, and trader, was the lone-hand white man in the heart of the island at Taumarunui during a period when all the pakehas were warned out of the Maori country on pain of death. His exemption from the tomahawk was because of his love-affair with and marriage to a handsome daughter of the head Chief on the Upper Wanganui. She and her family protected him through the darkest days of the old bush life. But quiet-spoken old Alec. Bell would never have claimed that there was any romance in his career. They never do see the romance, those who live it.
Just one or two of the real old bush scouts are left. There is one at Whakatane who reminded me, when first I met him, of that early-days celebrity Dickey Barrett, the whaler, as described by Jerningham Wakefield and other chroniclers of nearly a century ago. A New Zealander-born, he has had a wonderful life of knocking about, bush-fighting, and pakeha-Maori adventure.
Living, too, is the Maori heroine who at the risk of her own life, gave water to wounded and dying British soldiers who fell in the attempt to storm the Gate Pa at Tauranga. Another who at the time of writing still survives all his comrades is brave Te Huia Raureti, last of the defenders of famous Orakau. His story, fortunately, has been recorded fully in the history of the wars. The epic of Orakau will never die.
Fortunate fellow, Mr. Zane Grey, who is now camped like a king under the grand old pohutukawa trees of Mercury Bay, on the look-out for the biggest fish ever
. He has a certain and immensely profitable market for all the romantic and adventurous love literature he cares to write, and he is able between novels to rove the wide seas in search of enormous swordfish and fearsome sharks. When last he cruised the New Zealand coast he had a beaujpgul schooner and a small flotilla of boats to take him from fish to fish. Now he has had an amazingly fine launch built in Auckland for the swordfish and makohunting play.
Mr, Zane Grey is distinctly one of those visitors New Zealand should encourage. He appreciates the novelty and beauty of this country most keenly. The coast scenery, the lakes and rivers, the landscape and atmosphere of such places as Lake Taupo have found in him not merely an admirer but a lover and an eloquent word-painter. He is thorough in everything. His intense zest for deepsea sport may astonish some people, but it is one of those things that have helped to make this country known to the great world. One hopes to see many more books from this tireless author's pen, and many more big-fish hauled in with his mighty rod.
Holiday Time in the South Island.
(Rly. Publicity photo.)
A typical scene when a train arrives at the Christchurch Station.
The New Zealand Railways Road Motor Services, as they stand to-day, are an important unit of the railways, operating not in competition but in conjunction with the rail, in supplying the transport wants of a discriminating public.
It is thought fitting that some indication of the development of the Department's services should be given through the medium of this magazine to all who are interested in this phase of transportation.
During the period 1926–1929 a total of 58 privately owned buses were purchased by the Department. The first purchase made in 1926 was in respect of buses operating between Napier and Hastings. For some considerable time prior to this the opposition offered by these buses had proved such a serious drain on the traffic previously conveyed by rail that the Department was faced with three issues, either to discontinue rail passenger services altogether, to enter into a “fare” competition with the bus proprietors, or to purchase the buses outright from the several owners. The latter course was finally adopted as this, it was considered, would result in the regaining of the lost traffic to the Department, whilst at the same time obviating the running of non-paying rail services. The service totalling 13 buses when purchased, was placed under the control of the District Traffic Manager for the district, who was invested with the double responsibility of operating both bus and rail services. Further purchases followed in quick succession. In December, 1926, a bus operating between Oamaru and Tokarahi was taken over, and between Nov. 1927, and Feb. 1928, 41 privately owned buses plying between Wellington and Lower Hutt were purchased. In addition, three buses operating between Christchurch, Whitecliffs and Coalgate were acquired, and a bus service between Dunedin and Port Chalmers was inaugurated by the Department in January 1930. As in the case of the Napier service, all other buses purchased were placed under the control of the District Traffic Manager within whose district they were respectively operating. Thus, by 1930 the Department had definitely undertaken control of those bus services offering the Department the more serious competition.
In order to centralise the control a Bus Manager was appointed and invested with the responsibility of the control of all fleets.
The Department is at present operating fifty-three buses throughout the Dominion of a capital value of £59,000. For the year ended 31st March, 1932, the route miles travelled totalled 1,301,389, and for the same period the buses conveyed 2,384,670 passengers safely to their respective destinations. These figures will give some indication of the magnitude of the undertaking, which is without question the largest of its kind in the Dominion. It must not be inferred, however, that the Department has attained this measure of success without having first surmounted many obstacles, the greatest of which perhaps was the keen taxi competition encountered on the Napier-Hastings and Wellington-Hutt routes.
New Zealand Railways Road Motor Services.
(Rly. Publicity photos.)
(1) and (2) exterior and interior views of the New Leyland Cub Bus (23-seater) recently put into service; (3) Mr. R. G. Gow, Senior Clerk; (4) Mr. S. C. Doyle, Manager, Road Motor Services; (5) Mr. C. S. Mardon, Clerk, and Miss N. Brown, Typiste; (6) new buses in course of construction at Hutt Valley Workshops; (7) General Office (left to right), Mr. P. J. O'Neill, Officer-in-Charge, Mr. R. Wilcox and Mr. D. O'Keiff, Road Foremen; (8) Mr. H. Benge, Garage Foreman, Mr. W. Mullins, Clerk, and Mr. A. W. Parton, Equipment Officer; (9) Garage Workshop.
Rigorous steps have been taken by the management to ensure that the services are run with a high degree of efficiency, and no factor is overlooked which will reduce the operating costs. The maintenance of the buses is naturally a big drain on the revenue, and every care is taken to ensure that this charge is kept at the lowest possible figure compatible, of course, with the high standard of efficiency of the buses for which the services are noted. The Department has its own garage maintenance and repair shops, adequately equipped and staffed with capable and efficient mechanics. As a consequence all repairs and maintenance work can be carried out at a minimum of cost with little or no waste time to the Department.
It is the Department's aim to place at the disposal of the public, safe, speedy, and comfortable transport. It is placing on the road buses of the latest type in design and comfort, and the Department's patrons are at all times assured both of the highest standard of comfortable travel and the willing help and attention of the Department's officers. The management, believing that the true indication of success is a satisfied and con
“The rain a deluge showers.“—Andrew Cherry.
(W. W. Stewart collection.)
A night scene at Auckland Station during a recent rain storm.
“As a matter of fact, one reason why railway traffic is safer than motoring,” said Mr. R. Day (Traffic Inspector at New Plymouth), “is that the enginedriver does not go along with one arm round the fireman,” reports the Eltham Argus, which proceeds to paint a moral, something like this:—
In the lounge of a Sydney hotel some time ago, a waiter said to me:
“A gentleman over there says he would like to speak to you.”
I looked across and saw a man whom I did not know. He rose and came over.
“My name's Green,” he said. “You are Will Lawson, aren't you?”
He took a chair beside me and went on: “Do you remember this?—
“I seem to remember them,” I said. “Didn't I write them?”
He nodded.
“I was driving for the Manawatu Company at the time. Jimmy Davidson told me you rode on his engine.”
We talked then about the old days, when the Manawatu line was a private one, and the Napier Express went by way of the Wairarapa, and the Rimutaka Incline was a busy place.
The first ride I had on the footplate of a locomotive was on No. 19 of the Manawatu Company, afterwards in the N class of the New Zealand Railways. She and No. 20 were the Express engines between Paekakariki and Longburn. They were Baldwins, fast with the trains of that day, which were light. On the Paekakariki Hill and on to Wellington, No. 16 and No. 17, made the running. No. 3, a tank engine, was another powerful machine for her day, on this climb.
Since Mr. Green had started his reminiscences with a line of verse, perhaps it will be interesting to quote some of the lines which were inspired by different trips. My trip on No. 19 was responsible for this:
A few weeks ago, coming down in the New Plymouth Express with a New Zealand “Ab” cutting it out, the ease with which she took the hill at Paekakariki and sailed up the Johnsonville hills took my memory back to a trip I made one night on No. 3, the big tank engine, with Mr. Jimmy Barr at the throttle. I wrote it down like this:
There was a fireman on one of the engines. I rode on (I forget his name), but he looked almost a boy, being small and wiry; but really he was middle-aged, and he had never had an engine of his own because of his youthful appearance. I don't suppose he ever saw these lines, or if he did, knew they referred to him:
The big bosses in the steam sheds discussed him.
So he gets his engine, as I hope this man did long ago. And.
In the days when the San Francisco mail was rushed down from Auckland to Wellington in the little, fast Takapuna, and hurried to Dunedin, it sometimes happened that the ferry waited at Wellington for the mail, or that the ferry was delayed. The Penguin and old Rotorua were the ferries. Then a special, consisting of the mail van, a guard's van, and maybe a passenger coach, was run from Christchurch. One of the old K's would take the train, and it is recorded that more than once the speed exceeded sixty miles an hour on the Canterbury Plains. On one occasion the Governor was on the ferry and wanted to get South in good time. His carriage was taken as far as Temuka at a speed which evidently surprised him, for he sent a message and a gift to the enginemen, with his congratulations and compliments. Mr. Bowles was the driver on that trip.
The title of the verses inspired by this run was “The Flyer,” of which here are some of the lines:
When I took a ride on a “Q” engine from Ranfurly to Clyde with Driver Christenson, I heard much of the experiences in that lofty area in all kinds of weather. But the thing which stuck in my mind was a place in the open fenceless plains where the grade was very steep for a short distance. It was called Tiger Hill. I cannot recall the lines about that, in which the fireman expressed himself, except the last couplet:
The last locomotive verses which I wrote about New Zealand railways were the result of a trip on an “X” engine through the King Country at night, with the Main Trunk Express:
Whether these reminiscences in verse will interest railwaymen, I can only guess, but I find whenever I read the old verses that they carry me back to many happy days spent on the railways. I have ridden on locomotives in other countries, but these first New Zealand contacts with railways are always bright in my memory. To-day heavier engines and carriages and better tracks make for greater speed and hauling power. And the romance is still there.
Twenty-Nine Years Ago.
Head Office Cricket Team Representatives, 1904.—Left to right—Back row: Messrs. F. K. Porteous, A. Smellie, J. D. Nash, J. M. Robb, R. P. Bray, B. M. Wilson, Leslie Reynolds. Front row: W. A. Mirams, B. A. Welbourne, F. Lash, T. H. Wilson, J. M. Porteous
In the planning of Summer travel itineraries, few places in New Zealand offer a greater variety of attractions to the holiday-maker than Rotorua, which may now be reached from Auckland in a few hours, and in the greatest comfort, by the Auckland-Rotorua “Limited” express train. In the following article is given a brief description of some of the noted places of interest in the environs of the Geyserland town.
Ibelieve that had Lewis Carroll been fortunate enough to visit Rotorua he would have given his famous book on the adventures of Alice a different title, if merely to avoid confusion. For not only near Rotorua itself, but within a radius of several miles spread round about it, you have a succession of wonders that would have left even Alice breathless with astonishment. What is more, imagine her great delight when, on pinching herself vigorously, she would have actually found they were real. So that, with the single exception that you approach this wonderland by train instead of through a rabbit hole, I can confidently ask you to anticipate adventures just as enthralling and fascinating as those of that celebrated young lady.
Fittingly enough, the place of our first quest is named Fairy Springs. Three miles across flat country from Rotorua, you suddenly turn off the main road towards an unpretentious looking piece of bush on the hillside. The guide meets you at the gate, extracts a shilling per head from you, and conducts you downward through fragrant and overhanging evergreens to a rustic bridge. And there, over the rails, lies a deep, clear pool, which probably has no fellow in any other part of the world. The bed of the pool consists of thick sand which the ever-fresh energy of the spring waters rising from their mysterious and unplumbed depths is continually and irresistibly pushing aside and turning over. But the teeming inhabitants attract your attention even more than the spring, which is literally alive with trout. Never have you seen a nearer approach to perpetual motion than this swirling mass. Individually, you will see them, curiously inert, suspended for one moment in the green-coloured water, like some miniature zeppelin brooding in the sky; at the next moment, they have completely escaped your vision with half-a-dozen lightning movements. Throw a piece of bread into the water, and you create chaos in this community of trout, so keen is the competition for the bread; but, if you discriminate and poke the titbit gently over the edge of the pool, the bolder spirits will come forward cautiously and whisk it right out of your hand. Fairy Springs is the source of a stream which flows into Lake Rotorua, and is also the spawning ground whence come the innumerable fine trout that make the lake such a paradise for fishermen. The guide conducts you along the stream for some distance so that you may see the trout in all stages of development. The youngest are so small that they can scarcely be seen with the naked eye; the maturer fellows prowl murderously up and down stream, on the watch to seize and devour the weaker of their compatriots. At night a brilliant display of glow worms enhances the other attractions of the springs.
You can make the trip to Fairy Springs easily and comfortably in half a day, but the trip across Lake Rotorua and to Okere Falls is one of those joyous all-day outings which take you far afield into another world. It is possible to tour the fringe of the lake by car, but on a fine day the trip by launch is irresistible. The skipper casts off at 9.30 from the wharf near Ohinemutu. Seated comfortably, and drinking in deep of the bracing air, you watch the shores of the lake recede rapidly over a surface of shimmering blue. You will never again know so much contentment, for, over this lake, if anywhere, contentment is the presiding deity. Angler after
The Government Spa at Rotorua, North Island, New Zealand—famed for its warm mineral baths and its electrical treatment, under expert medical guidance, of rheumatism, sciatica, and similar bodily complaints. The illustrations shew: (1) The new Ward Bath House; (2) Sinusoidal Bath; (3) The Main Bath House; x-massage Douche; (5) The Blue Bath in course of construction; (6) The Priest's Bath; (7) High-frequency valve; (8) Entrance to the Main Bath House; (9) High-frequency couch; (10) Interior (Blue Bath); (11) Garden (Ward Bath); (12) Pyretic Moist-vapour Bath; (13) Greville Hot-air; (14) Cooling Room; (15) Plombiere Intestinal Douche; (16) Bergonie Chair; (17) Duchess Bath; (18) Ultra Violet Ray; (19) Dry-Electric Massage and Diathermy Treatment; (20) Schnee Multipolar Electric Bath; (21) X-Ray Department.
Angler you will pass swiftly by, each casting his line amiably, smoking probably, and almost surely as oblivious to the troubles of this world as a new-born babe. Nearly an hour of this delightful cruising brings you to the first port of call, Hamurana, on the opposite shore from Rotorua. Here you disembark to visit another famous spring, about half a mile from the shore. The way lies over pleasant meadows, and by a clear, greenish-coloured stream that has its source in the spring. It is a pity that the limitations of the time-table force you to hurry, for Hamurana is one of those quiet, restful, intimate places where you would like to pitch tent, and laze about with an armful of your favourite novels. Here is lake country that adds to its many natural beauties, and its complete separation from the mundane world of bustle, a warm and pleasant climate. But the duties of the guide, a young Maori boy, leave him no time for reflection, and we hurry on to the spring. Its surface area, is small; it is really a large fissure between rocks. Gaze down into its clear depths as long as you may, you will see no bottom, for there is none known to man. The water is so wonderfully cool and pure that you will be foolish not to drink a glass of it, but the most remarkable feature of the spring is the extraordinary force and volume of its output. Cast a penny into the pool, for example, and you will see it forced upward instead of sinking, such is the tremendous urge of the rising water. The total daily output reaches the colossal figure of twelve million gallons a day.
From Hamurana, the launch turns her nose down the lake towards Okere Falls. It glides smoothly along past the rugged northern shore until near the head of the lake it reaches the shallow waters at the entrance to Ohau Channel. Here the speed is reduced to a cautious crawl. Ohau Channel is a natural canal, winding in its course, and connecting Lake Rotorua with Lake Rotoiti. At places the channel is so narrow that you could almost touch the bank with your outstretched hand, but the waters are deep and perfectly safe to navigate. For nearly two miles you wind in and out of this tortuous water-course; drooping willows occasionally swish over the top deck; on the shores you cath frequent glimpses of the delightful Maori village of Mourea. If in your dreams of paradise you have had visions of green earth and cooling trees, of clear, deep water rolling gently through their midst, of everywhere a spread of blue skies and miles of rugged bush, and if you have added to such vague dreams a longing for peace that is absolute, you will leave Ohau Channel behind you with the greatest reluctance. I sincerely envy the Maoris who wave and smile so contentedly as the launch passes. The old Omar Khayyam grows strong in me; here is my wilderness, and here would love and I conspire if the bonds of this world were looser. The channel is no less a Mecca for the angler; in May, particularly, fisherman's luck is at its best.
Entering Rotoiti, the launch makes straight ahead for the northern shore, and shallower arm of the lake. Drawing near to the head you pass a tiny island, consecrated to the burial of a celebrated chief. About this and other spots around these lakes, hover the ghosts of many stirring incidents of the past, stories of valour, audacity and cunning, that make the Maori warrior a picturesque, if somewhat terrible figure, in history. In all these stories the launch skippers are deeply versed, for they have imbibed them from youth, and they seem to have a natural gift of narration that keeps you hanging breathlessly on every word.
A sudden turn of the prow of the launch, and you come almost by stealth on the landing stage at Okere. Here is another of those places where water and trees mingle with such beauty. Every-one tumbles out of the launch in the highest spirits, lunches, and submits to the disarming smile of a Maori guide who leads the party for about a quarter of a mile to see the electric power station and Hinemoa's cave. Five million gallons of water pass through the Falls daily at a tremendous pace. Less impressive, but more interesting is Hinemoa's Cave, which lies at the very foot of the bank close to the water's edge. You make the descent rather carefully down steps carved out of the rocks, and enter one of those caverns which you read about in stories of smugglers, except that in this case were smuggled women and children, not goods. The place was a safe haven of refuge in case of at tack, for which the Maori ever held himself in readiness; the path to it, though re-conditioned for tourists, was (as it is to-day) very narrow and effectively concealed at the top. You may glance at these scenes with the mild curiosity of a 1933 pakeha, but let your imagination take you back a hundred years or more, and you will hardly expect to reascend those steps without a furtive, cat-like tread, ready to strike off the first tattooed head that you saw.
From Okere the launch heads back again for Lake Rotorua. This time she makes down the middle of the lake, for she is aiming at Mokoia, her last port of call during the trip. Mokoia! It was almost the first glimpse you caught of the lake, an isolated patch of beauty in the centre. But, to the Maoris, Mokoia is not merely an island; they (I speak particularly of the older
(Rly. Publicity photo.) Lake Rotoma, one of the enchanting lakes near Rotorua.
After a day or two's rest, which is desirable if you are not pushed for time, you will be eager to make the next long trip, called the Government Round Trip. It is possible to make this trip either via Wairoa Village or via Waimangu (though the latter is the less strenuous, since the steep part of the walk is all down hill). The first stage of the journey is eighteen miles long, and is done by motor-car, which brings you to the ruins of the old accommodation house. This stands on the crest of the hill, and down before you spreads the Waimangu Valley, casting up clouds of steam from its questionable depths. As you stand near this mournful shell of a dwelling waiting for the guide to move off, you can picture the tragedy which occurred here on 1st April, 1917. Had you stood on this very spot on that unlucky day you would have noticed nothing unusual down there beyond the rising clouds of steam, for what was known as Frying Pan Flat blew up abruptly, not only carrying part of the accommodation house several hundreds of yards over the hill, but radically changing the appearance of the surrounding country-side. Fortunately no tourist party was about at the time, and only two lives were lost Frying Pan Flat disappeared, giving way to a boiling lake. The guide tells you the whole story as you pass by, but, in your eagerness to catch every detail, don't elbow your way too near to the edge of the cliff for there is only one entrance to the lake and no exit It is impossible to say how much latent energy still lies cooped up in the area which surrounds the lake. After Waimangu, you wander leisurely along through fern and bracken to the shores of Rotomahana. Almost at every step wisps of steam arise from the ground, and boiling springs and hot pools are very numerous. In one place you will discover boiling and cold water flowing along side by side. At Rotomahana the Government launch takes you aboard, and you begin now the easiest and in some ways the most interesting part of the trip.
To the north, rearing itself almost out of the lake, rises Mount Tarawera. With its square, dark, cavernous top, it is altogether a grim mountain, reminding you strongly of that picture you so often see of Napoleon with his square chin, brooding, terrible and implacable. So that the story of the eruption of 1886, if you have not already heard it, causes you no surprise. At that time Rotomahana was only one-thirtieth of its present size, and on the shore opposite the mountain lay the Pink and White Terraces, justly celebrated as the Eight Wonder of the world. Round about were Maori settlements. But even in this scene of perfect peace and beauty, Nature was playing a dual role. During a peaceful night in June, Tarawera suddenly let hell loose for many miles around, the Pink and White Terraces, and the lake vanished, great areas of vegetation were ruined, and many Maoris killed. Guide Warbrick, who until recently conducted the Government launch, was near at hand on that occasion, can give you a more vivid account of it than anyone else Imagine four blazing craters, and the air thick with flying debris 1 Ghastly flames rolling up out of the intense darkness, making it more horrible! But the main suggestion to-day of that disaster is the grim mountain still crouched brooding and sinister against the sky. Underneath him the gleaming waters of Rotomahana ripple peacefully. While the Pink and White Terraces are gone for ever, the steaming cliffs in their former vicinity, are a weird and remarkable sight For a short distance this amazing thermal activity extends even to the lake, which boils and bubbles under the keel of the launch. It is not merely the hundreds of jets and wreaths of steam curling up and intertwining that hold your fascinated gaze, for the brilliant rainbow colours of the cliffs are almost as attractive. These colours are produced by chemical action. Under the shadow of Tarawera, you leave the launch, take a pleasant walk through a wide grove of trees, and join the launch on Lake Tarawera. The incline leading to the lake is still thickly strewn with cinders and volcanic ash, eloquent testimony to the eruption of 1886. A launch trip of several miles now passes very pleasantly, and you step on shore again at Wairoa to join the motor car back to Rotorua. As you pass through Wairoa, you can see the remains of the buried village of that name, another relic of 1886. A portion of an old hotel still exists, and the guide will point out other fragments, strange, stark skeletons, fitting very ill into the present peaceful and beaujpgul surroundings. After the eruption the inhabitants, or rather the survivors, decamped in all haste and founded new homes near Whakarewarewa. It is interesting that among these Maoris were the grandparents of Rangi, perhaps the most famous of the present-day guides.
Wairoa, however, is not the last of the day's wonders, for you have yet to see the blue and the green lakes, strikingly true to their names on a bright day, and lastly the Tikitapu Bush, which, wonderfully green and luxuriant as it is now, bears no trace of the destruction it suffered in 1886.
a winter scene at craigieburnstation, south isiland, N.Z
(Continued.)
The following details of the staff employed on the Canterbury Railways, and their rates of pay, are taken from the Estimates for the year ended 30th September, 1870:—
Locomotive and car and wagon repairs employed two fitters, one at 11/- and one at 10/- per day; one smith, 11/- per day; two carpenters, 10/- per day each; one painter, 10/- per day; and one labourer, 7/- per day. Wheel turning was done by an outside firm. The cost of this and of timber, paint, and other stores and material was estimated to require £1,000.
The Maintenance of Way was in charge of ah Inspector at £300 per annum, the foreman in charge of gates, fencing and building received 15/- per day, foremen platelayers 11/- and 10/-per day, gangers 9/-, and labourers 7/-per day.
There were one foreman, two gangers, and thirteen labourers on the Lyttelton line (including the Christchurch yard), and one foreman, three gangers, and fourteen labourers on the South line. Under the foreman carpenter were four carpenters and two labourers. The charges for maintenance of buildings, gates and fencing were divided equally between the two lines.
Tools and materials were estimated to cost £2,050, and extra ballasting £1,050. There was a separate vote of £2,000 for labour and material for the work in Lyttelton tunnel.
At Christchurch Goods, there was a Goods Manager at £300, a foreman of outside labour at £250, two senior clerks at £ 175 each, two junior clerks, a tally clerk and a weighbridge clerk. There were also a shunter (horse driver) at 55/- per week, two head storemen (export and import) one at 10/- and one at 76; per day, five storemen at 7/- per day, a gate-checker at 6/-, a sailmaker at 9/-, and a labourer at 7/- per day. The two latter looked after the tarpaulins, ropes, nets, and bolsters. Casual labour for the sheds and for unloading and stacking timber and coal was estimated to cost £2,500.
On the Great South line £600 was voted for extra labour during the wool and grain seasons. Lyttelton Goods employed a clerk (import) at £140, clerk (export) £120, and a tally clerk at 48/-per week; yard foreman £180, shunter £120, horsedriver 50/- per week, head
Lyttelton wharves and jetties employed a shipping clerk at £240, a tally clerk at £ 120, head porter at 48/- a week, and three porters at 42/- a week each, a steam crane driver at 10/- per day, two donkey enginedrivers at 9/- per day each, and a horsedriver at 48/- a week.
Gates and Police.—There were on, the Lyttelton line two gatekeepers at £91 5s. per annum each, and one at £30 per annum. Two policemen at £127 15s. each for whom quarters were provided at Christchurch.
On the South line were three gatekeepers at 30/- per week, seven at 15/-per week, and one at £ 13 per month. In some cases the gatekeepers were wives of surfacemen, and were provided with cottages at the crossings.
There had been hard times in Canterbury. In his address to the Provincial Council on 11th August, 1864, the Superintendent (Mr. Samuel Bealey) referred to the financial depression then prevailing, and in 1866, 1867 and 1868, the then Superintendent (Mr. Moorhouse) also mentioned the depression, and his regret that there was no alleviation of the position. In addressing the Council on the 8th October, 1869, Mr. W. Rolleston gave a survey of the conditions and expressed a hope for improvement. His address (in part) was as follows:—
“In opening the last ordinary session of the present Provincial Government, though it is not my privilege to be able to congratulate you upon a return of that progressive prosperity which marked the early growth of the Province; I feel that the present is an occasion when, amidst all the difficulties which surround us, we cannot but look hopefully to the future. When the present Council first met, the financial I depression which has since weighed so heavily upon us, had set in; not only in this, but in all the Australian colonies. Its severity in our case was enhanced by a variety of causes. The discovery of goldfields in the neighbouring provinces had roused expectations and induced a speculative spirit which caused the reaction to be more painfully felt. To the difficulties of a widespread commercial crisis were superadded those pf a native war involving large and extravagant expenditure, the provision for which has hitherto mainly devolved upon the people of this Island, and during the past two years our position has been rendered worse by the fall in value of one pf the staple productions of the country. Yet it is impossible amidst all this not to recognise that the foundations of a prosperous future are being more firmly laid, and that under the influence of a temporary paralysis of commerce men have been led to turn their heavily taxed energies to new industries and new and cheaper methods of production, which must ultimately swell the value of our exports.”
This is in reference to the fall in the price of wool, and to the preparation of fibre from New Zealand flax, the establishment of meat canning works, and the expansion of the grain-growing industry.
Owing to the failure to raise loans on the London market, and to a reduced revenue, there were no funds available for capital works. On the funding of the Canterbury loans certain unexpended balances and released sinking funds became available, and the Superintendent was able to submit to the Council proposals for the appropriation of £35,000, which sum he suggested should be divided as follows:—
For the Northern Railway, £15,000.
For the Southern Railway, £15,000.
For the Southbridge Tramway, £5,000.
The Southern Railway, to the Rakaia River, was already laid out, and it was thought funds would accrue that would provide for the continuance of the work at such a rate of progress as would ensure its completion by the time the bridge over the river was ready for traffic.
For the Northern Railway a sum of £30,000 had previously been voted, and with the addition of the £15,000 proposed it was thought that the work might be commenced and carried to a point at which it would greatly benefit