# Banking Under Difficulties/Chapter 18

CHAPTER XVIII.
The following information I obtained from Mr. Hudson, one of the early pioneers of the West Coast:—In the early part of August, 1864, he and his partner, James Price, crossed the Teremakau saddle, on arriving at which they discovered a very nasty ravine, over which one of the pack horses toppled. On looking over they saw him some 50 feet below, landed on a ledge of rocks. As this was the horse that carried their blankets, &c., it was necessary to get to him, and they consequently made their way down, taking with them a tomahawk and pick. They cut the straps and girths to get the saddle released, and decided to roll him into the ravine below. After so doing, and taking their traps up, Hudson went down to have a look at the horse. On reaching the spot he was surprised to find him munching at the scrub, not a bit the worse for his rough handling. It was miraculous, the animal having fallen a distance of 150 feet. On arriving at the bed of the Teremakau they found it to be a complete mass of boulders, and experienced great difficulty in getting the horses along. They found as they proceeded that the travelling was getting more difficult, and very trying to the horses’ hoofs, until finally they had to cut up the saddle flaps to make shoes, in the shape of sandals, which were laced the best way they could with tent cord or anything available which answered their purpose, not having met with any flax (which is the great New Zealand substitute for manilla or European rope) up to this time. They continued their journey till dusk, and judging roughly must have travelled ten miles. They made for a flat, and camped, and after feeding the horses they had supper, and pitched their tents for the night. Next day they made a start, but their progress was very slow, owing to the time taken up in the constant fixing of the leather sandals, as the horses’ hoofs and the cord were all worn. Soon, however, they arrived in the precincts of the flax bushes (which abound on the banks of the rivers and creeks of the West Coast). All the leather being used, they now had to substitute bags, clothing, or anything that could possibly be spared. About midday they met a party of men returning from the Coast, making their way to Canterbury, and during the afternoon several other parties, all of whom gave a deplorable account of the Coast, begging them to ​turn back as there was no gold, no food, and nothing but starvation staring them in the face. They determined to proceed, however, and judge for themselves. That evening they camped about forty miles down the river. Next morning they again started at daylight, and had the same difficulties with the horses as on the preceding days. Midday brought them to the Natural Paddock, Lake Brunner, where they remained for a day to give themselves and horses a spell. Dick Ward arrived at the camping ground with a horse, mule, and a real live donkey. The following morning Ward and Hudson started for the Greenstone, to obtain some horseshoe nails. After innumerable difficulties they arrived, and found that great dissatisfaction existed among the mining population, the majority of them pronouncing the rush to be a duffer. Horseshoe nails were not to be had for love or money. They travelled on as far as the junction, where they came across a Maori canoe on the point of starting for the Teremakau. In this they went as far as the pah, where they camped for the night, and were hospitably entertained by the Maories. Next morning they went with the Maories in their canoe as far as the beach, then on to the Grey, where they were in hopes of procuring some horseshoe nails, which they obtained from one of the storekeepers there at an exorbitant price. Ward started off with the nails, Hudson remaining at the Grey for a few days till Ward and Price returned with the horses, blankets, and other effects. On their way down the poor donkey was drowned, and was subsequently thrown upon the beach, which created great consternation among the Maories, who travelled miles to see it, never having seen such an animal before. On their arrival at Blaketown, they erected a flax whare, which was scarcely completed when they received private information of gold having been discovered in the Kapitea Creek. The steamer Nelson arriving opportunely, they purchased from Captain Leach and Reuben Waite sufficient stock to commence work, and started with packhorses for the rush, and on their arrival there found the place pretty well deserted. They determined, however, not to return to Greymouth, but camped at the foot of the creek. It rained very heavily and continued for three weeks, during which time they were disposing of their stock to miners and others camped around. The weather clearing up, they at the desire of Jimmy Liddle and several Maories, proceeded south as far as the “Big River,” where they erected a store. On arriving at the Arahura they found excellent grass, where they camped for the night. Next day arrived at what was known as Okatika (1st October, 1864), and where they erected the first store or building in the now well-known town of Hokitika, which was built of saplings and covered with calico, size 12 x 20. They determined to remain here for the summer, lay in a good stock, sell at low ​prices, and afford every encouragement to prospectors. On the 2nd October, Liddle started south of the Hokitika River, with a party of Maories, and Donnelly with two whites, on a prospecting expedition. Every day small parties of diggers arrived, but none went further south than the river, nor would they push inland to prospect, but spent their time in sports, such as running, jumping, leap-frog, &c. In the meantime Hudson and Price sent their horses two trips to the Grey, and then turned them out at the Arahura. A fortnight passed, and no news of the prospectors; many of the miners camped around left for Canterbury, but at the end of the third week the camp was surprised by hearing a “coo-ey” from the opposite or south side of the river. A canoe was at once despatched to bring them over, the whole of the population waiting and anxiously watching their arrival. On their stepping ashore their first report was no gold. This was a great damper to all, but from the wink of Jimmy Liddle, Hudson knew it was all right. The others disbelieved their report, the prospectors appearing too jolly for men returning disappointed. Every move they made was closely watched. A meal was at once prepared, which consisted of hot tea, bacon, and eels. In passing through the store to get tea, the eyes of the self-constituted detectives being off for a moment, Liddle slightly raised his jumper at the waist, just enough to show Hudson that there was a good-sized bag of gold hanging to his waist belt. He then knew all was right. Shortly after this, Price came in from a fishing expedition, and Hudson told him what had transpired. It was arranged that Price should at at once proceed to the Grey and buy all the provisions obtainable. He slipped away to the Arahura for the horses, and after some trouble drove them in about eleven o’clock at night, The difficulty now was how to get the saddles, as the miners were all congregated in the back of the store, with the object of gathering information. Hudson spoke to his partner and arranged that he and Liddle, with a Maori half-caste, should leisurely walk towards the river, knowing that the crowd would follow, which would give Price an opportunity of abstracting the saddles from the tent, which being done, he at once saddled up and went off to the Grey, where he engaged two packers, De Silva and Ray, at the same time purchasing goods sufficient to load all the horses, Soon after Price had started, two Maories made their exit in order to inform their friends at Greenstone, Teremakau, Grey, and many other places. Many schemes were devised to entrap the prospectors, but failed. An idea was then hit upon to make the prospectors drunk so as to loosen their tongues. The run on Hudson’s liquor was so great that by four next morning the stock of spirits had entirely run out. The “bohoys” blood being up, they informed the prospectors that they must either disclose their secret or they would be “kilt.” A general fight took place, many taking the side of the prospectors, ​who, although weaker in number, came off victorious. Matters now settled down into their usual groove, the prospectors retiring into Hudson’s store, where they remained for the night. It was then he learned full particulars of the gold discovery, which took place in the Totara and a branch creek, now known as Donnelly’s. In the afternoon the vanguard of the rush hove in sight, consisting of Maories of all ages and sexes, and by night-fall fully 150 miners had arrived. This party of Maories had evidently been induced to come to this locality, from the representations of the fugitive members of the prospecting party. The prospectors at once declared the result of their researches south, and many who the evening before were ready to hang them, now greeted them with the greatest joy. The consequent increase of the population, and declining stock on hand induced Hudson to raise his prices to nearly the extent of 250 per cent., which was cheerfully given, as it was a great surprise to many of the miners to get provisions in such a place. Price arrived that night about twelve o’clock with the horses fully laden with provisions. On the following day four or five storekeepers arrived, including Sweeney, Ward, and Murphy. They decided on going south to the rush, but found it impossible to cross the river with Waite’s bullock dray, which they had hired, so had to return to Greymouth for a boat, which originally belonged to the old Gipsy schooner. On the arrival of the boat overland from the Grey there was a general rush of storekeepers and miners to secure it for the rush to the Totara. Amongst the storekeepers were Messrs. Sweeney, Murphy, Cochrane, Ward and Co. Hudson thought it advisable to erect a store on the new diggings, so as to keep pace with his opponents, and did so, and engaged Mr. James Morton to manage the business at Hokitika, while he (Hudson) proceeded to the rush. About this time an accident occurred, which tends to show how the hardy, sturdy miner will endeavour to relieve his fellowman in difficulties. Whilst a party of miners, known as Blanchard’s party, were engaged in felling a tree, one of them (a Portuguese by birth) slipped, and the butt of the tree coming down on his thigh smashed it. His mates at once came up the river for assistance; 150 volunteers went up to fetch the man down. They made a sort of box out of the trunk of a tree (split into slabs) in which they placed him, and after innumerable difficulties they reached the township, which was about nine miles from the beach on a long point of the Totara River. Here they camped all night, placing the injured man in Murphy’s store; started next day and made Ogilvie’s Lagoon, arriving at Hudson’s store on the succeeding day. They then constructed a waggon out of a huge tree, and Mr. Ramsay, a saddler (now of Hokitika), made a saddle and harness out of a pair of moleskin trousers and some rope. All being ready they started with the poor man next morning ​to Greymouth, and placed him on board the s.s. Nelson, and he was taken to the Nelson Hospital, where he was carefully attended to and cured. The diggings turned out very well, and in a great many instances were very remunerative.
The greatest hardship that the pioneers had to undergo was the total absence of fresh meat. Wild pigeons and other birds were very plentiful, and were shot by the dozen, and boiled by the bucketful, adding fruit-tops called pick-a-pick, which, when boiled, made a splendid vegetable, and substitute for cabbage, and to which the population were indebted for the absence of scurvy during their constrained daily diet of salt meat for six months. The one and only theft committed up to the time of the great rush was by a Maori named Jacob, who was in the employ of Mr. Hudson. He entered a digger’s tent at the rear of Hudson’s store, at Hokitika, and stole a small quantity of gold. He was, however, caught with the gold upon him, and at once tried by a jury, and was sentenced to be tied up to a stump all night and hanged next morning. He was, as was thought, securely fastened to the stump, but lo! next morning Jacob was nowhere to be seen; how he freed himself never transpired. After a lapse of six weeks Jacob returned looking penitent, and seeking employment.
The greatest scourges on the opening of the Coast were sandflies and mosquitoes. They were quite unbearable. The only remedy the diggers could adopt to rid themselves of these pests was to rub the face and hands with bacon, which was by no means pleasant. With the increased facilities for communication with one point and another, it would appear strange to narrate in detail the numerous difficulties and hardships the pioneers of the West Coast had to contend against. When boats or bridges were things unknown, scarcely a day passed without hearing, “Poor so-and-so is drowned” in some creek or river. The wonder is that the number drowned was not greater. Many stout, hardy fellows were missed; lost in the bush and perished by starvation, drowned, or killed by accident,—for at that time there were no bushrangers on the Coast, gold not being plentiful enough to induce these demons of society to locate themselves in such a wilderness. The next important event that took place was the big rush to Hokitika, early in 1865, about which time Hudson made a visit to the place, and finding money was to be made there, and their business requiring the whole attention of himself and Price, they decided to close the store at Totara, which was done accordingly. Hudson then took up his abode in Hokitika, where he has remained ever since.
22nd November, 1864.—A young man named Shillingford, who arrived by the last trip of the Nelson, was drowned to-day at the second ford of the Teremakau. The poor fellow was on his way to the Greenstone, travelling alone, had mistaken the ford, got ​into deep water, and was carried down about a hundred yards into an eddy, which sucked him under. The sad news cast quite a gloom over the town. He was well known in Otago, where he had made money, and had come to the Coast with the intention of starting in business. Since my arrival there has been on an average one death per week through drowning, at this ford.
23rd November.—Immediately after breakfast made a start with my washing (my first attempt), which I would have made a mess of had it not been for Waite, who happened to be passing at the time. I had my flannel things in a bucket of water, which I intended to boil; fortunately for me I did not.
24th November.—Inquest held on the body of Shillingford by Mr. John Rochfort. Went to the Greenstone in company with Horsington and De Silva; put up at a shanty kept by a man named Tracy. Our lodging was on the cold ground. We had some old sacking under us, and my blankets, which I had brought up with me, over us. I, as usual, managed to get the middle berth.
25th November.—Sunday was the business day. During my stay I visited the few storekeepers in the town. Not being satisfied with this, I found out one or two parties who had large parcels of gold, went to their tents, purchased it from them, and issued some deposit receipts. Having no office and no safe, I had to carry a pair of saddle bags with me wherever I went, which was anything but agreeable.
28th November.—Harry Abbott arrived with his pack horses at one o’clock. There being nothing more for me to do, I packed up and went with him as far as the Hohuna, a creek five miles from the Greenstone, which empties itself into the Teremakau. Here I got a canoe, which took me to the Teremakau, having got out at one place called the Devil’s Elbow. This was a sharp turn in the river, where great skill had to be shown in handling the canoe: a capsize in that spot meant sudden death, for under the high bluff was deep water, with numerous whirlpools. I did not care to risk it, so got out with my swag. From the river bank it appeared as if nothing would save the canoe from being dashed to pieces against the bluff. She shot down the rapids at the rate of ten knots an hour, when, by the skilful handling of the man at the stern, she turned in a twinkling. I got in again, and in a few minutes was safely landed at the Teremakau. Hearing that the Nelson was in port, and being anxious to send my gold by her, I looked round for a pack-horse, but could not get one; they had all left about an hour before. I was determined not to be beaten, so after getting something to eat and drink made a start “on shank’s pony” for the Grey, a distance of ten miles along the beach. I had a large cloak on, a heavy revolver by my side, and last—not least—a bag containing 350 ozs. of gold dust; high tide and the wind and rain right in my ​face. Fortunately for me a storekeeper named Everest was going down, who was kind enough to carry my swag occasionally. Had he not been with me I must have broken down long before I got to the Grey; as it was, two or three times I had to lie down on the shingles to rest, till feeling cold, I would jump up and make a fresh start. Owing to the tide being high, and the night dark, we both had several tumbles over logs, stumps, &c. Everest had one nasty tumble and cut his lip severely. We called at Meyer’s store (Saltwater), where we had a pannikin of tea each, which freshened us up. Reached Horsington’s store at eleven o’clock as “done up” as ever I was in my life. Roused up Jones (Horsington’s right-hand man), who pulled off my clothes and rubbed me down with a rough towel, I then had some bread and cheese and a bottle of ale, and went to bed.
Up at nine o’clock next morning as fresh as a lark; sent my gold, &c., per steamer; went out in the afternoon hunting for eggs—no luck.
3rd December.—Not being able to get a horse, started for the Greenstone on foot; most disagreeable travelling, the Hohuna having to be crossed no less than twenty-two times; in many places water above my knees. Took up my quarters at Tracy’s shanty.
4th December.—Business being slack and so many rowdies about, I left early. People going from the Greenstone to a rush southward.
6th December.—Nelson arrived; brought seventy passengers, Messrs. Cassius and Comiskey among the number, and what pleased me most, a horse for me, which did not arrive before it was wanted.
7th December.—Captain Leech, of the ss. Nelson, started overland to have a look at the Okatika River.
8th December.—First rush to the “Six Mile,” now known as ‘Waimea.”
9th December.—Walmsley and I started in company for the Greenstone, I on my little horse (Nobby), new saddle and bridle; in fact quite smart-looking. When we got to the second ford of the Teremakau, we found the river too high to cross with safety, so made up our minds to visit the Six Mile rush, which is all the attraction just now. Walmsley said he knew the fords, so off we started. The first place he went into was so deep that he had to swim for it. I followed. Nobby being new to the business, did not like it; when getting into deep water he reared up, and, I believe, would have fallen on me had I not slipped off and struck out for the bank; fortunately there was no current, so I got out all right. The folk in the township had been watching to see how we would get on. As soon as they saw me in the water they sent a canoe to the rescue, but before it was half way over the river I was out—Nobby close at my heels. We had a row with the ferryman, who ​saw us coming, yet allowed us to take the wrong ford. I was in a pretty plight, wet through, and had a couple of thousand pounds in bank notes in the breast of my shirt. These, of course, were wet, and my revolver also. I sent the ferryman to M‘G———’s for some dry clothes, and in the meantime took off my wet ones, which I hung round a fire to dry. I could not stand this long. The sandflies soon found me out, so I had to put on my wet clothes till dry ones came. The notes I put round the fire and soon dried; the revolver I took to pieces, dried, and oiled; purchased some brandy (poison) at a shanty kept by an old fellow calling himself Dr. S.S., and went over to M‘G———’s, where I stayed for the night.
Some time in December I took a trip to the Greenstone; Walmsley and I went up at the latter end of every week, usually on Saturday (sometimes on Friday), remaining over Sunday, which, as I have before stated, was the business day. On this occasion (a Friday) I was at Teremakau, when Walmsley called en route for Greenstone. I got ready to accompany him, for I made it a rule, if possible, to travel in company; the Teremakau being such a treacherous river it was unsafe for one to travel alone. At this time I had my safe (a little thing which two men could carry) in M‘G———’s store, under his bed, which was immediately behind the bar; the tent was a calico one. I had my safe here for two reasons; in the first place, Teremakau was in a central position as regards the then existing diggings, viz., Greenstone, Totara, and Six Mile; and again the police tent occupied by Sergeant Broham and Constable Cooper was erected here, O’Donnell being at the Grey. As soon as Walmsley rode up and said he was going to the Greenstone, I saddled Nobby, took my saddle-bags into the bedroom, unlocked the safe, took out what notes and coins I wanted, strapped up the saddle-bags, put them on the pony, and away. It so happened that I was particularly busy on this trip, both on the Saturday and Sunday; the weather most miserable, raining the whole time. As usual I took up quarters at Tracy’s. On Monday we rode to the Hohuna and found such a fresh in the river that we could not proceed on our journey. We stayed at Everest’s. About an hour after I went to bed, I put my hand in my breeches pocket (for let it be known I always slept with my breeches on, and oftentimes in my boots), and missed the key of my safe. I felt first in one pocket, then in another. I lay for some time trying to remember when I had it last. For the life of me I could not. I remembered going to the safe and locking it up, but nothing more. I got up, struck a light, searched the saddle-bags, but no trace of the key. Next morning I gave a man £1 to go to the Greenstone to see if I had dropped it at Tracy’s. He returned in the afternoon without it. I was in a nice fix; my safe at Teremakau, myself a prisoner at the Hohuna, where I ​was likely to be for days, and my key lost. In this state of suspense I remained until Wednesday evening, when, by good luck, a Maori, in a canoe, called in on his way to Teremakau. The river was anything but safe. However, I was in such a state of mind that I would not lose the chance of getting down, so left Nobby to he sent after me. Off we went. I did not relish the trip, but I sat down in the bottom of the canoe and remained perfectly steady, and trusted entirely to my Maori friend. I did not even ask to get out at the “Devil's Elbow,” and in less than half-an-hour I was safely landed at Teremakau. Paid the Maori his fare—£1—and marched up to the store. Here I saw M‘G———, and after a while said, “By the way, did I leave a key here?” “Yes,” said he, “Dan found it on the table immediately after you left on Friday, he did not know whose it was and hung it up inside” (pointing to the bedroom). I went in, and, sure enough, there was the missing key. I opened the safe, which, as I said before, was a small one, and in which I left several hundred ounces of gold, and £2000 in notes. The treasure I had packed away at the back, and the few books I had in use, piled up in front. On opening it everything appeared to be as I left it, so I locked up, determining to go down and balance up after tea. This I attempted to do, but a lot of drunken men coming in I had to give it up.
That evening I went to Broham’s tent, where I slept; of course I told him about losing the key, finding it again, &c. Some time in the night I awoke with severe pains in my stomach; I was regularly doubled up, groaning and perspiring with pain. Broham knocked up Cooper and sent him to M‘G———’s for some brandy (real poison it was), and gave me nearly half a pannikin full, which I drank. This had the effect of sending me to sleep, and I slept soundly until morning. I got up, and after breakfast tried to get to the store, being anxious to balance my cash, but finding myself too weak, returned to the tent, where I remained the whole day. Next morning, feeling better, I went down to the store, wrote up the books, counted the cash, and balanced. I was truly delighted, and went home to Broham in great glee.
A day or two after this the Nelson arrived at the Grey. I took what gold I had to that place, and weighed it at Horsington’s. I could not weigh off at Teremakau, my scales only weighing a few ounces at a time; my large scales I kept at Greenstone. Horsington assisted me to weigh off some hundreds of ounces; when I totted up the total, I found I was something like 85 ozs. short. I said to him, “This can never be, we must weigh it over again.” We did so, but with the same result. I did not know what to do; however, before sending it away, I determined to ride back to the Teremakau and have a look in the safe, thinking I might possibly have left a lot in it—no such ​luck. It then struck me the gold must have been taken out of the safe. I told Broham the whole circumstances of the case, and moreover, whom I suspected. He went to the store and searched, but without discovering anything. The gold was gone without a doubt. I had no alternative but to report the loss to my inspector at Christchurch, which I did by the first opportunity. My anxiety now was to know how the report of my loss would be received, and I must say I fully expected to be called upon to make it good. I did not hear from the inspector for some considerable time (letters in those days having to go via Nelson); meanwhile I was continually being asked by one or another whether I had heard from the Inspector. At last a letter arrived to the effect that although leaving the key of the safe behind was careless, still, taking everything into consideration, the difficulties I had to contend with, &c., it was decided that the loss should not fall upon me. On taking the letter to “Jimmy Price,” he said it would not have affected me in any case. I replied, “Only this much, that I would have been some £140 out of pocket.” “Nothing of the kind,” said he, “had you been called upon to make good the amount, it would have been paid by the principal business people here and at Greymouth unknown to you.” I was thunderstruck, and at the same time gratified, to think I had such kind friends who would have assisted me out of my difficulty.