This river, fed as it is from the big lake and also by innumerable tributaries, is, although not very broad, a most dangerous one to cross, especially while it is descending from the high plateau, as it either rushes through high banks or tumbles in foaming cataracts among large rocks until at last, as if tired with its exertions, it becomes a well-behaved, navigable river, and forms what was in early times one of the only roads into the interior of New Zealand; but during its whole course from the lake to the ocean it is a dangerous one to play with.
On the precipitous south bank of this river, some 200 yards from the lake, we were, in 1869, building a redoubt called Tapuaeharuru (the Place of Sounding Footsteps), and it was from this fort that I was ordered to ride to Te-Niho-te-Kiori (the Rat's Tooth), an enormous pinnacle of rock that springs from the ground just where the river starts on its long flow to the north. I was therefore, as it were, to ride along the string of a bent bow and, if successful in reaching this rock, to try and open communications with another column supposed to be in its vicinity.
It was not what some people might call a safe journey: road there was none, and the route I had to take was through country that, although it could not be called mountainous nor thickly bushed, was covered with manuka scrub and wire grass, with here and there a clump of heavy timber, while an occasional column of snowwhite steam, rising into the air, denoted a boiling spring. These columns were of different magnitude, and as I knew which side of the river the principal geysers were on, and their situation, as seen from the river and fort, they proved most useful landmarks to me later on in the day.
At daybreak one lovely morning I plumped my saddle into a canoe and was ferried across the stream, my horse swimming astern, and on gaining the bank, after drying his back, I carefully saddled-up, lit my pipe and, with a cheery "So long" to the men who had paddled me over, mounted and rode away.
As soon as I was out of rifle-range of the camp I was in No Man's Land, and every native I met would be an enemy. I had twenty-five miles to ride to get to the Rat's Tooth, and had to depend entirely on my own wit and the good qualities of my horse to save my hair, in case I fell across any parties of wandering Hau Haus. My orders also directed me to look out for any signs of the enemy, and in case I cut a spoor I was to prospect it and try to ascertain if it were the track of a Taua (war party) or not.