(Photo., B. Teayue). The township of Murchison, showing the junction of the Buller and Matalcitaki rivers with the Lyeller Range and Buller Gorge in the background, South Island, New Zealand.

With keen interest I read in the October issue of “The Railways Magazine” of the experience of Mr. R. F. Page who, in the late Samuel Turner's party, saw “The Spectre of Brocken” on the slopes of Mt. Egmont twelve years ago. Mr. Turner himself has left a record of this happening in one of his writings, but with such scant mention that it is indeed interesting to have the details recorded.

The article, however, was doubly interesting, as with a friend, Mr. A. W. Sutherland, I saw a similar phenomenon while climbing on the Lyell Range above the Buller Valley over five years ago. Viewed from the township of Murchison, the Lyell Range dominates the Buller Valley and has, in particular, one very striking peak known locally, as Mount Lyell, which is a little less than 6,000 ft. above sea level in altitude. While resident in Murchison I made enquiries from time to time, but could find no record of any ascent of this peak, although deer-stalkers had roamed the surrounding snow-top country for years. Finally, my opportunity came, and with my friend who had never been above the bush line before, I set out in March, 1932, to climb the peak.

We commenced our climb from Mr. Reid's well-known residence in the Buller Gorge, by following a deer track up a spur through a tangle of typical Buller forest. At 3 p.m. we gladly dropped our packs at a splendid camp site where bush and tussock met, and after a light meal we climbed to the top of Bald Hill to plan our route for the morrow.

I will now quote from my record of the trip written immediately after the conclusion of the climb: “When we topped the ridge, after a scramble over rocks and through tussock, we, were rendered silent as we gazed in admiration at the scene before and beneath us. The whole of North Westland was covered from our gaze by a mighty sea of billowing clouds. Below us was the source of the Mokihinui River, a bush valley stretching away to the north. The valley was filled with clouds which were continually moving, foaming in huge masses below us, while often one would rise to our height to completely enshroud us in mist for a few minutes before passing by. Only the tops of the higher ranges showed above the clouds, looking like tiny islands in a mighty sea.

One view opposite us was striking in its beauty as the clouds, in covering a range top and following the descent of the range sides to the gorge beneath, gave the impression of an amazingly beautiful waterfall. Beauty, almost ethereal, surrounded us. Away to the north we saw Mt. Haystack showing cold and sombre above the clouds, and also the glaciated sides of the Mt. Radiant group of peaks. Mt. Haystack is crowned by a steep gable and very narrow ridge. Local legend has it that it was once traversed by a stalker who was forced to use the tines of a pair of

(Photo., Teague).The Buller Gorge, through which runs the Main Highway between Nelson and Westport.

page 31 deer antlers, ire-axe fashion, to safely cross its treacherous, shingle slides.

Beautiful as these scenes were, however we were hardly prepared for that which greeted our eyes as we turned about to look to the east where the whole of the Murchison district was also hidden beneath a sea of clouds. In front, and about 100 feet away from us was a mist of cloudbank. Behind us was the sun, now low down on the western horizon. Our shadows were thrown on to the cloudbank by the setting sun, at about twice life size, and around them was formed a rainbow in a complete circle of glowing colours. Again and again this entrancing phenomenon faded and came into view. At times, it seemed as though our shadows were moving, for the cloudbank itself was moving slowly. Words would fail from either lips or pen to describe adequately the wonderous and mysterious beauty of the scene.

We were astir very early the following morning and were on the march before dawn. We traversed the full length of Bald. Hill to ascend a convenient leading spur which led us to the Lyell Range itself. Shortly before noon we climbed in turn the two domes which vie with the sharper peak for the highest point on the range. We gathered eidlewiss at their base as a memento of our trip.

Following a narrow and ragged ridge we continued along the range to climb the more prominent peak and shook hands on its summit at one o'clock. As we could find neither cairn nor record of any previous party we built a cairn and claimed a first ascent. To the east, through our binoculars, we had a splendid view of Murchison township, while to the west we could see the smoke ascending from the perpetually burning abandoned coal mine at Stockton. A large sheet of water reflecting the sun ray's proved to be the shallow lake used for mining purposes and situated between the townships of Stockton and Millerton, which were approximately 4,500 ft. below us.

To add some further remarks to the story of our experience of the “Spectre of Brocken,” it is only fair to admit that at that time neither of us had ever heard of such an experience, and indeed it was our elated impression that we were the first privileged mortals to behold such a scene. Later, the writer read of the “Spectre” in Mr. S. Turner's book, but no details were given. Some years ago, fortunate chance added to my library a copy of Mr. Edward Whympers “Ascent of the Matterhorn.” In this book the author tells of the first ascent of the mighty peak with its tragic sequel. While descending the mountain after the accident which had caused the death of his two English companions and their guides, Mr. Whymper, with his two unnerved guides, the Taugwalders, saw the phenomenon over the Lyksamm Glacier. In the book complete details with a diagram are given.