NEW ZEALAND. PART II. COLONIAL LIFE IN THE EARLY DAYS.
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PART II.
COLONIAL LIFE IN THE EARLY DAYS.
WE got into the Harbour on the 7th January, 1849. We were not at all taken with Port Chalmers, and I was very disappointed to see the surrounding land so heavily wooded. Along with several of the passengers I left the ship on the 11th to go to Dunedin. We were to have gone in one of the ship's boats, and got as far as Blanket Bay, where we became wind-bound.
We heard there was a track to town, so a fellow-passenger and I determined to make our way thither if possible. We left the others and started, I taking my gun. We climbed the hill --there rather steep and struck the track leading into the North-East Valley. We trudged on, keeping a look-out for the town, which consisted then of a few huts composed of wattle and daub. We came upon a series of swamps, creeks, hills, and hollows, with flax bushes everywhere. After a lot of floundering, we at length reached Princes street. When we got opposite the Post Office, a man standing at his own door hailed us. We spoke to him, and thus made the acquaintance of Mr. Wm. Stevenson. After some conversation I discovered that I had known his uncle at home. Mr. S.'s mother welcomed us and invited us to stay for tea. We did so, and there I had my first meal in New Zealand. After tea went to call on Mr Andrew Watson, who lived in Walker street, just off Princes street.
I stopped there all night, and next day returned to the ship to procure my belongings, and bring my wife to town. We got back safely, and lived with Mr Watson till we got a house of our own. I got a section in Manor place, which locality was in those days densely wooded. The house was built of round timber (maple), the ends of which were just stuck into
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the ground. We had to carry the trees from where the Club now stands. Of course the only available roofing was thatch, and I decided to have mine done with manuka and "rashes." I had to go to Tomahawk Lagoon to cut the "rashes," and then carried them home with the aid of the man who was assisting me. For the inside we made a mixture of clay and tussock grass, with which we plastered it to fill up the cracks between the trees. The city then consisted of a row of wattle and daub huts, called "Blundell Row," on the site of the present Rattray street. That part of the town through which George street now runs was a flat covered with flax and manuka. The first erection of any kind was a stock and cattle sale-yard, about where the Octagon now is. The first dwelling-house in George street was built for Mr Lee (of Lee Stream), at the corner of that street and London street. The house was afterwards the residence of Dr Purdie.
In those days Princes street was very hilly. The Criterion Hotel, a fern-tree house (occupied by Mr White, a shoemaker), the Immigration Barracks, and Captain Cargill's place opposite Neill's store, were the only houses in that street.
After I had got the cottage finished, and ourselves comfortably settled in it, Mr Kettle, chief surveyor, sent for me and asked if I wanted work. I said I had no objection to doing something by which I could turn an honest penny. He said he would have great pleasure in making me one of his staff on the survey.
We were to be ready to start on Monday to go out and survey Green Island and the surrounding country, particularly that part lying between town and the river. Mr Abbott was his manager. Each man had to carry his own provisions, besides his blankets, billy, tin plate, &c. As there was no butcher meat to be had, I took my gun. Pigeons were very plentiful, and every day we shot sufficient for all hands; and as we enjoyed the privilege of having a cook, who was really a master of the culinary art, we did not do so badly. His name was Frank Crystal.
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Our wages amounted to 4s. per day, all time that we lost being deducted. Sometimes our duties were rather arduous. I remember one day having to erect a flag on the top of the hill to the north of Brighton. The climbing rather tired me, and when I began to build the mound I found the shapes of the stones so various that I could not refrain from spending some little time examining them; anyhow, when I got down to the river again, I found the tide in. There was nothing left for me but to swim for it, and being winter time, that was not pleasant. There seemed no other way out of the difficulty, so I undressed, made my clothes into a bundle, tied them with flax, and fixed them on to my head. I stepped into the water, waded till beyond my depth, and then struck out. I reached terra firma safely, dressed, and proceeded to the camp. The weather got very bad, and we were sent home to await instructions.
We next went on an expedition to the South Molyneux, to show a settler his section pegs. The party this time consisted of only three J. Harrison, J. Thorburn, and myself. We took sufficient provisions for the return journey. On reaching the Taieri we procured a guide who took us to Kaitangata, where we passed the night in an old hut --not an agreeable lodging, owing to the number of rats infesting the place. Next morning we proceeded on our way without a guide. We met a Maori, who took us up the Puerua River in his boat to our destination. He waited while we did our work, and conveyed us back to Kaitangata.
We began our return journey the following day, and were unfortunate enough to get caught in a fog on the top of Mount Misery. The rain came down heavily, and owing to the thick mist we lost the track, and could see no distance ahead. We wandered about, and ultimately got into a bushy gully, where we camped for the night. Of course we were wet to the skin. We made a fire, and arranged that while two slept the third should keep up the fire and dry the clothes. We followed this plan, and so got our garments dried and our bodies rested.
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Next morning we started for Tokomairiro. The fog was still thick, and rain fell heavily, but we happened to drop on the track, and by-and-bye came on an old surveyors' hut, where we decided to remain for the night. It was a palace compared with the one we had at Kaitangata. We consumed the last of our provisions here. Morning came, but our outlook was not very bright--still raining hard, nothing to eat, and little prospect of getting anything. We shook the flour out of the corners of the bag and made a damper, which, after it was cooked, was about the size of one's hand. We were sitting round feeling very miserable, when Tom Harrison, who was seated near the door, saw a wood-hen coming. As it passed the doorway he knocked it over with his billy-hook, and before long it was roasting on the embers. After it was cooked, we divided it and the damper between the three, and proceeded to satisfy our hunger. Our only beverage was water.
Next day, although still raining, we started on our journey. We got on pretty well, considering the country we were; travelling over, but were brought to a stop by Salmon's Creek (it had no name then), which was in full flood. How to cross it was the trouble, and to make matters worse, Tom Harrison could not swim. We drew lots who would cross first, and it fell to me. I plunged in and got over safely. I pulled some flax (which there grew plentifully), made it into a string rope, and threw one end across to Thorburn. This was the only way we could think of to get Harrison over. He held on to the rope, and so managed to get to the opposite side without accident. Thorburn followed, and though we were thoroughly drenched we trudged on till we came opposite to the Maori Kaik. We could not attempt the river there, so we coo-ee'd loudly. Presently a Maori, hurrying from one hut to the other, heard the call; and before very long a boat put off which quickly took us to the Kaik shore. A man named Perkins, who had a Maori wife, took us into his whare, where we dried ourselves. The only dry thing about me was my watch, which I wrapped in my neckerchief and tied round my waist. Here we also
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spent the night a very miserable one. They had nothing to give us to eat but some small potatoes, and these we had to take without salt.
In the morning we started for Dunedin. Harrison became knocked up; when we were about Otakia, and went back. Thorburn and I kept on till we reached Mr Jeffrey's hut at Saddle Hill. We were faint with hunger, so we drew lots for which should go and beg a scone or its equivalent, from Mrs Jeffrey. Again the luck was mine. Accordingly I went to the door, knocked, and on Mrs Jeffrey appearing, stated the case, and made my request. She gave me the scone, which I carried back to where my mate was waiting. It was an ordinary sized scone, and we divided and ate it as we tramped in to town, which we reached in due course.
When I got home I found a sorry house. The wet weather was the cause of the trouble. During the heavy rain numbers of huts had been washed away; but ours, built as it was of logs stuck into the ground, stood the test, only the clay with which it was plastered suffering, but it was nearly all washed off. My wife had to take a spade and dig a drain through the house to carry the water away; and at night she was forced to put an open umbrella over her bed to sleep with any degree of comfort.
One morning Mr John Cargill came and asked if I would go to Henley for Dr Williams, as Mrs Cargill had been taken ill. Mr Cutten lent me a horse, but it was not of much account. I travelled as best I could till I came to Riccarton, and being dark by that time, both horse and I tumbled into a creek, which the gloom prevented me from seeing.
We got out again all right; and as the night was intensely dark, I took advantage of a disused hut to camp till the morning. With ferns which I had gathered as a covering, and my saddle for a pillow, I laid me down to rest, but not to sleep. What with the cold--for it was the month of June, and frosty--and the howling of wild dogs, I had very little peace. I kept the bridle over my arm all night, so that my horse was not far away when I rose.
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In the morning I proceeded on my journey, and got on splendidly till I came to the swampy ground near Henley. Owing to the frost the place was very slippery, and the horse fell. He did not seem to be able to recover his feet, so I had to drag him over. I managed it, and then proceeded to the hut. Mr Thomson, who was left in charge, gave me some refreshment.
The gentleman who owned the hut had gone to Kuri Bush, pig shooting, and taken the doctor with him. I told Thomson to go after them, and tell the doctor to come as quickly as possible. Meantime I would start and go on so far, and leave the horse tied to a cabbage tree on the road-side, so that when Williams came along he could get it, and would then easily overtake me.
I did as I agreed, and had got about a couple of miles on my way, when I heard the doctor "cooee-ing" his very utmost. I paid no attention for a time, but he became so vehement in his calls that I had to wait for him. I knew he could not take much out of the horse, so I stood till he came up. He made use of a great many unparliamentary expressions concerning the animal, and proposed that we should take turn about, one riding, and the other walking behind to hurry the brute along. By coaxing and physical persuasion we got the horse to the top of the hill where Belleknowes now is. It was by this time dark, and we could not see the survey track leading into Rattray street. We thought the best thing was to gather some dry cabbage-tree leaves, and use them as a torch. This we did, but they burned out rapidly, and seemed only to make the darkness more dense. After many proposals, I said: "Tie up the bridle and take hold of one stirrup, and I'll hold by you; then give the horse a smart rap or two, and he will soon find the track." That suggestion was carried out, and had the desired effect. About ten o'clock we reached town, passed half-a-dozen mud huts along what is now Princes street, and the doctor had arrived at Mr Cargill's, and gone to see his patient.
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Next day the doctor wished to return to Henley, and for that purpose borrowed Mr Kettle's old horse, "Dobbin." The day was pretty far advanced before he got started. Mr Duff, of Green Island, had walked off with Dobbin early in the morning to go and inspect some cattle. Dobbin was a little tired, and the doctor (a fearless rider), going at a hard pace up the track which leads over a spur of Saddle Hill, toppled with poor old Dobbin into a hole, known as an "under-runner." Williams got out, but the animal had not sufficient strength to struggle. His rider was powerless to render any assistance, so he left him, and made the best of his way back to town. Next morning rescuers set out for the scene of the accident, but their help came too late--poor Dobbin was dead. So the doctor lost his passage, and Mr Kettle his faithful steed. For many years the place was known as "Dobbin's hole."
For some time past I had been thinking that this kind of life would not suit me. I thought I would buy a boat, and try my luck at trading in the Harbour. It was with difficulty I got one; they were scarce in those days. At length I managed to get one from a man who had got it in payment of a debt, and found I did better in this line than on the survey.
We were still living in Manor place, but I thought it would be better if I had a house down the Harbour somewhere, and set about to look for something suitable. Before long I found what I wanted. Mr Stewart, a man not long from Home, who lodged with Mr Duthie (now of Milton), had taken up some suburban sections on Dunedin side of Sawyers' Bay Peninsula, and as he was willing to sell, I purchased them at £4 per acre. A house was the next concern, so I got Bob Murray and John Healey (two carpenters who were out of work) to go and erect one for me, and a very comfortable one it was--of fern-tree. We cut the trees and dressed them, and I bought sawn timber from some sawyers down the river. I had to take provisions to the carpenters. Butcher meat was very scarce, but I managed to get some occasionally, and I left them my gun and ammunition, so that they might supplement their larder with pigeons and kakas.
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Sometimes when I had passengers I did not call every day, and on one occasion when I went I found Murray with his hand wrapped in a handkerchief. He would not say what was wrong, but Healey told me that one day when the fire would not burn, Murray took the powder-flask and emptied some on it, with the result that the flask was blown out of his hand, burning his fingers, and, striking against his waistcoat pocket, crushed a toilet comb like tow. The flask I never saw again, but the top we picked up a long time after.
Our house--a nice-looking cottage, with a pavilion roof, two windows, and a door in front -- was getting on towards completion, so I got Mrs Campbell down as quickly as possible. I stayed at home as much as I could, and stuck in to get a garden set a-going. I always went up and down with my boat when any vessels were expected.
We set to and plastered the inside of the cottage with clay, which makes a splendid house, although a troublesome job, as the clay dries so quickly; and when it and the fern dry together, the clay cracks, so that you have to be at it daily, painting it with clay mixed to the consistency of cream. We had very little furniture, and no bedstead, but having a few tools and some red pine, I set about making one. It turned out very well; and I felt quite pleased when the minister (Dr Burns), on coming to visit us, praised it, and would scarcely believe I had made it. We worked very hard, night and day, to get our garden so that we might be able to grow our own fruit and vegetables. In my spare moments I put a lean-to of slabs, so that on wet days I could fill in time by making many things we required. My next feat was a fowl-house, which I built of fern-trees. After getting the frame up I was confronted with a difficulty. Where was I to get something that would take the place of netting? I thought it over, and at last found a way out of the trouble. I took strips of timber, and bored holes every two and a half inches apart, then went into the bush and got black supplejacks. The lumps on these I planed off, and wove them across, just like a wicker basket. It
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made a pretty place, and useful to us, because, if we kept fowls at all, they would require to be closed in on account of the garden. Things were going pretty well with us; our garden was flourishing, and I was always doing a little with the boat.
One day Dr Burns, with a brother of Mr Macandrew, and Mr E. J. Wakefield called on us, to see if I would show them a good road to Port. They were delighted with my place, and put a very flattering paragraph in the Otago News, saying how they were regaled with tea, &c, that whatever I turned my hand to was substantially done, that I was the right man for a colonist, &c
By this time we had splendid vegetables, and whenever a vessel came to Port, I took down a boat-load, which were readily bought up. This was always extra money for me.
When turning over the ground I threw all the roots on the top, in little heaps; Mrs Campbell went into the bush and gathered some dry sticks, then we made up fires, piled on the roots, and thus got rid of them. We worked in that way till nearly midnight. It may be worth while mentioning that in those days we had to make our own salt by boiling salt water.
I had a coloured man--George--working for me about this time. We felled the heavy timber on the place, and while I tilled the ground he cut the wood, at which he was a grand hand; but he had a weakness for rum. He used to weary to get to town, and would say to Mrs Campbell: "When is the master going to town?" She would reply: "I do not know, George." George would smile and say: "Oh, I'll soon fix that; I'll have two cords of wood ready soon, then he'll have to go."
There was always somebody waiting to buy the wood, so that I "killed two dogs with one stone"--cleared the property, and sold the timber at 14s or 15s per cord. When we got the wood discharged, George put up the boat, and then went to enjoy his rum. Sometimes I had to wait for him. He occasionally took a bullock's head home with him, which he made into "potted head"--a preparation which he could make to perfection. His fireplace was the hollow stump of a broadleaf, cut about three feet from the ground.
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Once poor George went away to enjoy himself with his rum, and I had to go without him. While in town he met an old skipper of his named Stevenson. He coaxed George to go with him to Riverton, and he agreed to go. George begged me to give him a dog I had, called "Neal." This animal was always in trouble, chasing pigs, stealing from the Royal Hotel, or helping himself to eggs, so we let him go, and we never heard of either again. I missed the dog for many reasons. When I was delayed through bad weather, I had often to walk home, and there was only a surveyors' track through the dense bush. When I got on the hill above my house I had only to call Neal to me, and, tying my neckerchief through his collar and keeping hold of it, he guided me safely home.
At this time no flour came into the colony, and people; had to live on potatoes and such like. Some wheat came to John Jones's store, from Waikouaiti, I think, but as there were only hand mills to grind it, the process of flour-making was slow. As an example of this, I may say that it took a man grinding all day to supply Mr Valpy's establishment with flour for the day.
Returning from Dunedin one day I met with Colok the Maori. We drew alongside each other for a chat, when I saw a bag in the bow of his boat. I asked what it contained. He told me it was wheat, and that he was taking it to town to sell. I told him I would be his purchaser, and accordingly the four bushel bag, with its contents, became mine for the sum of one sovereign. I congratulated myself on the good bargain I had made. In the evening I sat beside the fire with a small coffee mill on my knee, and ground as much wheat into flour as did us for the next day. The hand mill was slow enough, but this, with a mill only four inches square, was slower still.
We had by this time a good bit of ground cleared, and plenty of vegetables--in fact, more than we required. The land in which we could not plant vegetables until the roots rotted, I sowed with oats. I had a decent crop, and wished to
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build a stack. I was not up to that sort of work, however, and asked old Mr McNeil to give me a lesson. He seemed very unwilling, and made an excuse. I put it up myself, but it was not a success. Wet weather came, and the stack got wet through; so I had to take it down, dry the stuff, and rebuild it. After that I came to the conclusion that I must put up a barn, as I could do no threshing without some sort of roof to cover me. One night, sitting by the fire, I drew a plan of a barn which I thought would suit me. I went into the bush and cut timber, and carried it home on my back. It did not take long to get the posts in and the roof on, which I thatched with "rashes." We found it a handy place for keeping potatoes, carrots, &c Our next want was a cow, but before I got it I must have a byre. I erected one of fern-trees-- a very good one, of three bails. I laid the floor with flat stones, made a nice gutter with an outside drain, and a sort of tank into which any water might run. Accommodation being ready, we purchased a cow, with calf at foot, for which I paid £16. Now that we had the cow we must have a churn, but such things were not to be had then, and we had to invent something that would answer the purpose. We overcame the difficulty of milk dishes by getting a carpenter (a neighbour) to make frames of wood, just like the sides of a box, but sloping out towards the top. I had some tin, which was sufficient for bottoms for half-a-dozen of those frames. We fastened them on with tacks, and they served our purpose for years.
The churn was arranged in the following way: --Mr Napier's father sent them a barrel of oatmeal from Home. They did not want the meal, and I purchased it from them. The barrel was lined with zinc and soldered, and it made a grand churn after I had made the plunge for it.
I took the chance of securing another cow from Mr Barr, who sold her to me for £14. Her name was "Jean." He helped me to drive her down, where I had a comfortable place for her. We had our first churning of butter on the 27th November, 1852. We made 2 1/2 lbs. We kept half-a-pound
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for our own use, and I walked to Dunedin with the remainder and sold it for 10d per lb. We were now doing pretty well, selling vegetables, butter, milk and eggs, and on one occasion I sold 9 1/2 cwt. of grass, for which I got 3s per cwt. We were making a comfortable living, and our stock was increasing in every way.
Of course I still traded up and down the Harbour with my boat. The old one having got worn out, I bought one from Arthur Burns for £12--a nice open boat it was.
Mr Watson came to me one day and asked me to take a Mr -----, uncle of the Hon. Richardson, on board the Cornwall, at Port Chalmers. I took them down, and arranged with Mr Watson (who wanted me to take him back), that as I would have a cargo, I would not come to a landing stage, but would go to the point, where he was to meet me at a certain time. I kept my appointment, but he did not appear. He had met with some friends, I suppose; and as the tide was up, I could not wait very long, and proceeded to town. The wind was blowing a stiff gale, but we got in safely, and ran the boat up on the beach. A wave curled over us and nearly filled the boat, doing little damage, however. We were loaded with provisions, being conveyed to Mr Mercer, who was starting a grocery store.
Next morning sensational tales were going the rounds of Dunedin. When Watson found himself left behind at Port, he looked round for someone to take him to town. He had some friends with him--amongst them Messrs C. Reid and Dalton. They got a man at last (Ben Coleman was his name), who had brought a man up from the Kaik to take them. Before leaving they were quarrelling so much together that Reid and Dalton refused to go in the boat. The remainder started, and reached Black Jack's Point in safely, when by some means or other the boat capsized, and they were all drowned with the exception of the man from the Kaik. A few days after, a boatman taking some Maoris to town from Waikouaiti, saw something lying on a boulder by the water's edge. It turned put to be the body of Coleman, I think.
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I must tell you that in the year '50 or'51 I took to Port for Mr J. Jones the first wool that was sent out of the Colony. It was sent to Sydney by the Scotia. Two and a-half bales it was, and I got 7s 6d for taking it down.
For sometime I had been thinking that I must get away to the country, but it was no use going without a horse. I kept looking about for one that would suit, but they were scarce. A ship came in with some aboard, and I tried to make a bargain with the Captain to take hay as part payment for one; but it was no use. I attended the sale at the sale-yards (where the Octagon now is), and purchased a mare (a bonnie beast), for which I paid £40, and a good investment it was. With some assistance I led her home and put her into the stable. I had fixed a loose box in one end of the barn, and it made a comfortable place for her. There was some excitement that day in the yard. While this mare was being led round for exhibition she jumped the fence and made off towards Pelichet Bay, but some one who had a horse followed and brought her back. She had to be broken in, and a man who professed to understand horses came down one day to begin her training. He mounted her, but was barely seated when she pitched him over her head and galloped off along the shore. I was afraid she would get into the bush, but after a while she cantered home again, and with the aid of a carrot my wife got her into the stable. She became very much attached to Mrs Campbell, who was about the only one that could ride her with safety.
At last we found a place in the country that I thought suitable. It was at Kaihiku. After looking round to see if everything was satisfactory, I purchased it. My purchase contained 80 acres.
After settling my affairs in town I started for Kaihiku, taking my cattle with me. These consisted of 2 cows, 2 heifers, 1 bull, and 1 bullock. I also had my bag, 1 blanket, 1 coverlet, 5 shirts, 2 pairs stockings, 2 pairs trousers, 2 singlets, 1 pair pants, 1 cravat, 1 night-cap, 1 towel, 1 three foot rule.
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After four or five days' travelling, with numerous small adventures, I reached my destination. When I arrived I took up my abode with a couple who were not long married, and slept in the loft of their hut. I began to build at once, and the dimensions of my house were 12ft. by 12ft., 6ft. high; windows, 3ft. 9in. by 2ft. 6in. Door, 6ft. by 2ft. 9in. The fire-place was 4ft. high, 3ft. 6in. wide, and 2ft. deep.
I cut my way into the bush to get suitable trees, and built the frame according to dimensions. I cut the trees up into slabs for walls, bored holes for the wall plates, using pegs instead of nails. The roof was thatch, and I nailed small wattles over the walls inside to hold the clay. I dug a hole for the clay, and cut the tussocks rather long, so that they would be long enough to roll round the wattle. This makes a good plaster. The chimney was made of the same ingredients, and I managed to get some sawn timber for the floor; and when the door and window (which I got in Dunedin) were fixed, I set off to town for my wife.
We disposed of the boat and the place at Campbell's Bay -- that being the name of the bay where I lived.
The only way to get Mrs Campbell out to the farm was by means of a horse, and as the mare was broken in, we decided she should ride. I got a side-saddle from Patterson for £12, and we got fairly started on our journey in August of 1856.
We took many necessaries of life with us; also a cat and a bantam, each in a kit. We put up at Cullen's, at Henley, and Smith's, at Toko. We pushed on to Balclutha, where we stayed a night, but by the next night we were home at Kaihiku. We had sent our cooking utensils round by schooner, and they should have been there waiting for us; but they did not arrive for some days. Meanwhile we had to go a-borrowing. We got a small goblet from a neighbour, in which we had to cook various things--first our butcher meat, then, after washing, boil the water for our tea. We had very little furniture, and no bedstead, so I set to work and made one; and then I thought there was a corner that would do nicely for a
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cupboard, which I built in, and found very handy. We had a companion for the cupboard in the grotto of shifted birds, which filled another space. After all these improvements were made, our home was really comfortable and cosy.
I immediately fenced a paddock and began the cultivation of the land. I engaged a man to do some ploughing for me. His charge was 20s per day, besides which we had to feed him and the boy who drove the bullocks. We also had to lend him a horse to go and get the animals, which took till after midday; so that after having him five days or so, we had not three decent days' work. That work cost me £5 per acre. I cleared about an eighth of an acre on the edge of the bush, and planted potatoes, which turned out a splendid crop. We sold two tons beyond what we gave away and used.
We had before long a splendid kitchen garden, containing vegetables of all kinds. When the season came we sowed wheat and oats, and turned our attention to fruit trees. It was a lucky investment. They throve wonderfully, and as time went on repaid any trouble we had had with them. On one occasion I remember selling 25 cwt. of fruit.
Our cattle also throve well, and their numbers increased as time went on. We had added sheep to our live stock. I purchased them from a man in Blueskin, went there for them, and drove them to Kaihiku. The price was 35s per head. We added another room to our house, and built a dairy. We still used the churn we had invented for use in the old place down the Harbour. Everything throve and flourished, and by perseverance I got the house and stockyard made very comfortable.
I ought perhaps to mention an incident that happened while I was away at Blueskin. One afternoon the rain came down in torrents--such a downpour as we never experience now. In those days they were more like the showers of tropical regions than of temperate countries. On the day I mention, the cattle got over the Kaihiku Stream, and Mrs Campbell thought she had better go after them. She got across all
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right, and drove the animals before her, but when she tried to return, the stream, owing to the rain, was running at such a rate that it carried her off her feet, and she was taken down a distance of thirty yards, where a tree was lying which stopped her progress. Had she missed the branch to which she clung she would have been washed away and drowned. She managed to scramble out of the water and up the bank, but the place where she landed was densely wooded, and she did not know where to turn for a path. Of course there were no tracks, and the undergrowth was very thick. She began to feel very frightened, for no matter how loudly she might call there was no one to hear. The prospect of being lost in the bush is not a pleasant one, and if you add to that the discomfort of soaked clothes, you will see that the situation was anything but nice. In a little while she heard the dog barking, and he soon came to where she was standing. He barked and fawned round her, making a great fuss. He ran away, and came back again barking. Mrs Campbell thought there must be something meant by this display on the part of the dog, so she caught him by the collar and followed. He guided her out of the bush, and she made her way home safely.
We kept working steadily on, tilling ground, raising sheep and cattle, and improving our garden. Many know, but most people have little or no idea of the hard work and difficulties farmers have to contend with. To make a living at farming one must always be about, and have one's eyes open; if not he may as well give it up, unless he would have it give him up. As an example of our work in 1856 (and that was only a short time after our going to the farm), from January to November we churned 346 1/2 lbs butter, and in 1857 we made 650 lbs. Of course we sold sheep and cattle besides. In 1858 our butter amounted to 812 lbs, and in 1859 we had 1117 lbs for the season.
Of course we had to keep at it late and early, but our industry was rewarded, for everything prospered, and continued to do so as years went on. Since everything else was increasing, our wants increased also, and we began to think about a
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larger house, and I set to work and drew a plan. It was to be two storeys, with gable windows, and consisted of four rooms, a pantry, and a passage on the ground floor, and the same number upstairs. There was also a porch over the front door.
We had chosen a pretty site for it on a slightly elevated ridge beside a clump of Native trees, which latter added a beauty all their own to the spot. The Kaihiku stream ran at the bottom of the ridge, and the valley, studded here and there with cabbage-trees, and the Kaihiku range in the distance, made up a picture well worth looking at.
So far so good, but we had to get the materials with which to build it, and in those days, when there were no saw-mills, that was no easy task.
We had to fell the timber, and it had to be hand-sawn. The iron for the roof must be procured from Dunedin, and at the time I am speaking of, iron cost £54 per ton.
Anyhow, we made a beginning on the 22nd April, 1861, worked on as well as we could during the winter, and got into the house about the end of October. It did not take long to get settled, and we soon felt quite at home.
I ought also to say that we had named our place "Glenfalloch," after the place of that name at the head of Loch Lomond.
I sold a man fifty head of cattle, and he paid me so much on account, promising to let me have the remainder before long. He did not appear, and I began making inquiries, only to learn that he had gone away to the Old Country, and I never heard of him again.
About this time, while we were shearing, a sudden heavy downpour of rain swept over the district. The stream overflowed its banks, and the surrounding low-lying country was flooded. A number of my sheep were drowned. After the water had subsided (for the rain abated as quickly as it came on), we found fifty carcases, I think, which had got caught in wood, &c, as they were being carried along by the stream.
Nothing of any moment happened for some years. We
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led a quiet, peaceful, and uneventful life--steadily working, improving our property, and increasing our live stock. We occasionally made a trip to Dunedin, which varied things a little, but I think we were always glad to return to our own comfortable home. Town was good enough, but Glenfalloch was better.
We began to long for a sight of Bonnie Scotland, and after due consideration, decided to take a trip there. We found a man whom we believed to be trustworthy, and after putting the reins in his hands we made our preparations and bade good-bye to the spot where we had spent so many peaceful, happy, but laborious years.
