Part 6

SATURDAY, JANUARY 18.—Rotorua, with all its charms, becomes very tiresome after a few days. A second visit to the geyser fields is like seeing a play a second time, and we are impatient to move on. The first time you see fifteen-year-old girls, scantily dressed, diving for pennies, it is a startling sight, but in a little while you do not care for it. When two Maori women meet, they rub their foreheads together. That ceremony interested me for a time, but it does not now, and we leave here tomorrow.... When we first arrived, the manager said: “I will seat you in the dining-room with an American.” The man was exactly like an American, but he actually came from Vancouver, B. C. Canadians are more like Americans than any other people.... I have not seen such a thing as door or window screens in New Zealand. This is the middle of summer, and flies are numerous, but no attempt is made to keep them out. I dislike to pass a meat market, because I always encounter great swarms of flies. They have ice here, but do not use it much.... We visited a moving-picture theatre this afternoon, and it was exactly like the moving-picture shows at home; ridiculous plays of the melodrama order, made in America, and an orchestra consisting of a piano-player who plays with tremendous force. As we came away from the moving-picture show we passed the smallest hotel in town, and of course it was known as “The Palace.”... I have never seen such magnificent sweet pea blooms as I have seen here, and they are now at their best. Roses also seem to do particularly well here, and we visited a rose garden today which would have done credit to California. There was an acre or more of roses, and all the varieties seemed to be different. The garden is owned by the government, which does all sorts of things over here, and is cared for by convicts.... We have had no mail from home in five weeks. The people at the American naval station at Pago Pago, Samoa, receive mail only once a month, and say they do not mind it; that mail every day is a daily worry, whereas if you receive mail but once a month your worries are greatly reduced. You are always expecting important mail which never arrives, and a daily mail, they say, is really a nuisance.... One of the baths here is known as a Spout bath. You go down into a cave, and water falls on you from six feet above. The water comes from one of the boiling springs, cooled to an endurable temperature by the addition of a stream from a cold lake. Water is conducted from the lakes in trenches to the baths. The water in the Spout bath has a good deal of oil in it, and is said to be particularly good for rheumatism. But the worst case of rheumatism I ever saw was in front of the Spout bathhouse. A native man was so crippled with it that he moved as slowly as a snail, and was a pitiful object.... There arrived at this hotel today a man and wife I had known on the “Sonoma.” He is a fine old gentleman who lives in a country town in Ohio, but he has at least one habit to which his wife seriously objects. They sat opposite us in the dining-room, and I noticed that the old gentleman parted his hair behind, in the old-fashioned way. And it seemed, also, that he used hair oil, for regularly three times a day I heard his wife mumbling a protest because of this hair-oil habit. And tonight at dinner the wife appeared alone, and was seated at our table, as the manager knew we were acquaintances. Presently the old gentleman appeared; he had been indulging in his favorite dissipation, hair oil, and his wife at once noticed it, and mumbled a protest. The old gentleman pays no attention to her; indeed, he does not pay much attention to anyone, as he is a very quiet man. On the “Sonoma” he was an early riser, as I was, and usually he barely spoke to me when I appeared. But I saw him quite animated one morning. He was seated on deck, looking out at the sea, and, soon after I sat down near him, he burst out into a tirade against the farmers with whom he did business as a country merchant thirty or forty years ago. He said that in the old day he bought wrapping-twine of farmers, and that almost invariably he found a stone in the middle of each ball. One conspicuous offender was an old Baptist deacon. On one occasion, when this man came into the store after sugar, the merchant placed in the scoop, with the sugar, a number of stones taken from balls of twine purchased of the deacon. The deacon watched the performance, but never said a word; he knew he was guilty, and calmly took his medicine.... I have witnessed many amateur performances, but the most amusing one I saw in Rotorua this evening. It was an entertainment given by native Maoris, and the women guides had been selling tickets several days. The accompaniments were played on an accordion, and twenty-five persons took part in some of the numbers. Twelve young girls sang, and among them I noticed a number of the fifteen-year-old divers who had jumped for my pennies yesterday at the bridge marking the entrance to the geyser field. Fourteen men gave a war dance, and about that number of women gave a “hooche-kooche.” The entire performance was of this character, and so poor that it was amusing. After appearing on the stage, the performers came down to seats in the audience, as amateurs do everywhere, and laughed and giggled. Every act was applauded, and every performer had an encore number. One of the men who appeared in the war dance must have been seventy years old; rather venerable, I thought, for an amateur. We stood it for an hour, because there was absolutely nothing else to do. The English pickle and jam manufacturers, and tradesmen of every kind, claim notable patrons, therefore I was not surprised to find this on the programme: “Patronized by Lord Kitchener, Madame Melba, and many other distinguished visitors.” The performance closed with the song, “God Save the King,” and a dance. The audience was small, and composed entirely of whites, but out in front of the hall were hundreds of Maoris lounging about.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 19.—I write this by the light of a tallow candle in a little hotel twenty-four miles from Rotorua. We came here today by a circuitous route, and saw many wonders on the way. The hotel at which I am a guest tonight exists to accommodate visitors to the Waiotapu valley geysers, and these I shall see tomorrow morning, and proceed to Wairakei, twenty-seven miles, by motor in the afternoon. The names here are something dreadful; one place we visited yesterday is called Whakarewarewa, but people refer to it familiarly as Whak.... We left Rotorua at 8:15 this morning, by stage. We had seats with the driver, which, in staging, is an honor equal to a seat at the captain’s table on a ship. We had a pleasant drive of three hours through mountains, passing Green and Blue lakes on the way. One lake is really green and the other is really blue, and both may be seen at the same time from a high place on the stage road. At Green lake we encountered a photographer, who, after taking our picture, accompanied us down to a buried town. While we were looking at these ruins, which occupied us possibly half an hour, the photographer developed and printed the picture, and took orders from certainly ten of the fourteen passengers.... In 1886 this section was visited by an earthquake. A tract of country nineteen miles long was affected, and 135 people, mostly natives, were killed. After taking a look at the town buried in 1886, we drove a mile, and embarked on a launch for a ride of eight miles. Then we walked over a mountain, and embarked on another launch for a ride of six miles across White lake. This lake is really a crater, and in spots the water is boiling hot. For some reason, the water is nearly as white as milk, and in the crumbling walls surrounding the lake are hundreds of smoking geysers. The place looks like a lake in purgatory, and the country surrounding it is as desolate and barren as can be imagined. On this ride we passed the site of the terraces, or mammoth hot springs, which were destroyed by the eruption twenty-six years ago. When we landed, we met another party, going the route we had come, and, as soon as we disembarked, they went on board, and left us. We found an old guide waiting for us, and started on a walk of three miles through a lava-bed. We were always in sight of smoking springs and geysers. At one place we were compelled to ford a considerable stream, and the guide carried the women across.... The guide was much the smartest man of his profession we have seen. Just how accurate his information is, I do not know. He says that most of the great processes in geology are carried on by internal fires in the earth, and that what we see on the surface here is constantly going on, on a very much larger scale, deeper down. The water from every cool, limpid spring is sent to the surface by the same forces that cause the mud lakes to bubble and growl; the water of every cold spring was originally steam, and the water was cleaned of impurities on its long journey to the surface.... The geyser field of New Zealand is more than a hundred miles long, and during our journey of twenty-four miles today we were rarely out of sight of smoking springs. But the most curious thing we have seen is the White lake, which occupies a crater caused by the earthquake of 1886. The lake has no outlet, and, until a few years ago, was a mud geyser. Then it began to fill with hot water from below. In spots the water is only warm at the surface, but in many places it is boiling.... The end of our three-mile walk was a government rest-house. Here we found a carriage awaiting us, and we drove seven miles to the hotel where we are spending the night. A storm was threatening when we arrived at the rest-house, and we were anxious to hurry on, but the English people with us insisted on having their afternoon tea, and we were forced to wait for them.... Part of the country over which we traveled today looked like the lake district of Scotland; the first lake on which we traveled reminded me of Loch Katrine, and the stage road to it was something like the Trossachs. But after we reached the lake where the water is white, and occupying a crater smoking all around the edges, we saw something we had never seen the like of before.... Wild blackberries are a pest in this section. We saw hundreds of acres of wild blackberry bushes during our drive today, the berries just ripening. The best way to get rid of the bushes, the driver said, was to put goats among them.... This lava district was formerly considered worthless. Some years ago a man leased fifteen thousand acres of it from the government, at a rental of £29 per year, or $145. He burned off the bush, sowed a lot of clover seed, and is now getting rich from sheep.... When I arrived at this hotel I was very dirty and dusty, from riding on two stages on dusty roads. So I asked the proprietor for a bath. He gave me a towel, and called a boy, who led me to a creek two hundred yards down the hill. The water was warm, and, after warning me not to go above or below into very hot water, the boy left me to enjoy my swim.... On a ship, an American is always interested in seeing the English passengers going to their morning baths. They are seen in all the halls and on all the decks, barefooted, and wearing pajamas. But early this morning, at the Grand Hotel in Rotorua, I saw a still more unusual sight. An Englishman came out of the hotel at 7:30 wearing slippers on bare feet, and dressed only in pajamas. I supposed he was going to one of the hotel bathrooms, but instead of that, he walked out on the streets of Rotorua, and calmly proceeded to one of the big bath-houses three or four blocks away. He was dressed exactly as I represent him; bareheaded, and smoking a pipe.... While taking an early walk this morning, I encountered the courthouse in Rotorua. Here are some of the signs on the office doors: “Stipendiary Magistrate;” “Registrar of Old Age Pensions;” “Vaccination Inspector;” “Registrar of Deaths, Births and Marriages.” The office hours of the different officials were: Saturdays, 10 A. M. to noon; week days, 10 A. M. to 1 P. M., 2 P. M. to 4 P. M. Counting holidays, that is an average of about four hours a day for New Zealand officials.... At the moving-picture shows here the best seats are 36 cents, and a seat on a bench in the extreme rear of the hall costs 12 cents.... In a Rotorua paper I picked up last night, I saw a statement that a man had been fined $125 “for sly grog-selling.” That is what we call “bootlegging.”

MONDAY, JANUARY 20.—I awoke this morning at 5 o’clock, and found the sun coming up. You have perhaps noted that the sun is not up at 5 A. M. on the 20th of January in our part of the world. While the days are very warm here, the nights are quite cool; at 5 A. M. I was quite cold in bed, and awoke to look for more covering.... I read myself to sleep last night, very comfortably, by the light of a tallow candle. Electric lights do not seem to be absolutely necessary to the comfort of mankind.... In riding over the mountains here, I find great tracts of flourishing pine trees which have been planted by the government. Convicts did the work. By this means, the barren mountains are being changed into a living green.... Late last night, a man somewhere about the hotel engaged in singing; alcoholic singing, I judged. The vulgar rich are generously abused, but I have noticed that the higher priced the hotel, the more polite the guests are.... But while this little hotel in the mountains of New Zealand is somewhat primitive, I prefer it to the best steamship that ever existed. For breakfast this morning we had soft-boiled eggs, toast and coffee, with mutton chops and bacon offered. That is enough for anyone. But on a ship you are offered a hundred things you do not want, by professional waiters who are wondering how much of a gratuity they can coax out of you. The breakfast this morning was served by a girl who, barring her pronunciation, seemed real nice. She expects no tip; she expects her pay from the proprietor, whom I have heard her refer to as Mr. Hickey. And while my room is small, I at least haven’t two snoring gentlemen in with me.... A young gentleman who ate breakfast with me has charge of the local postoffice, and says there are several big sheep ranches in the vicinity, from which he gets a good deal of mail. The sheep here are well bred, and not at all like the range sheep of the United States.... While writing in my room last night I felt a shock, and thought some object had fallen about the hotel. This morning I learned it was an earthquake; we had three shocks during the night. Near this place is a place called Earthquake Flat. In passing it the stage-drivers rest their teams a few minutes, and give the passengers a chance to experience an earthquake shock. Ten minutes never goes by at that point without one. At Rotorua, one night we were there, sixty earthquake shocks were noted from 6 P. M. to 6 A. M.... This morning, in walking through the Waiotapu geyser field, we had a satisfactory guide; a native Maori. He didn’t say much, and, if we wanted to know about anything, asked him about it. Yesterday we had a guide who talked incessantly, and he was a bore. He was an Englishman, and we were glad to get rid of him. Adelaide refused to go out to the geyser field this morning; she is tired seeing them, as they are all much alike.... At 1 P. M. today we left Waiotapu for Wairakei, in a seven-passenger Napier automobile. The distance is twenty-seven miles, over a mountain road, and we ran it in two hours, with the usual rests for tea. The roads were good, and the ride enjoyable. The Napier is an English six-cylinder car, and the driver was very capable and agreeable.... Arriving at the hotel at Wairakei, we found the most gallant man in the world. He runs a hotel consisting of a number of detached buildings. In the main one he has _two_ toilet-rooms for women, with modern plumbing, but the men are compelled to content themselves with a toilet-room of the country-hotel pattern, located out in the yard, near the stables, and it is very filthy, and filled with big blue flies. Another law I suggest is, that no man be allowed to conduct a hotel until he is able to provide proper toilet facilities. The hotel at Wairakei is located near a geyser field. Another difference between Yellowstone Park and the New Zealand geyser country is that in the Yellowstone you find modern hotels; that at the Norris geyser basin is a palace. Here, after leaving Rotorua, we found the hotels primitive, and not very comfortable.... There are many deer in New Zealand; also wild cattle, wild pigs, California quail, pheasants, etc. Several times I have seen California quail along the country roads.... A remarkable thing we saw yesterday was a mud volcano; a small mountain, in the center of which was a boiling mud spring. The spring is constantly throwing out mud, and thus the mountain grows steadily in height.... To be a Maori, is to be a pensioner. The natives employ smart lawyers to bring all sorts of claims against the government, and these win often enough to be profitable. The lands the natives own are uncultivated, and the natives are a drawback to the country. All of which is very much American Indian.... Over here the government does everything, including selling tickets to tourists. The government owns the town of Rotorua, and brings it water and light from waterfalls in the neighboring mountains.... If you are a bad sleeper, do not travel. I was awake at 4 o’clock this morning, and there was not the slightest noise about the hotel from that hour until 7:15, when I heard an alarm clock go off. You don’t know what it is to be really lonesome unless you have spent a sleepless night in a strange hotel in a strange country.... A man came in this evening from Lake Taupo, with a big catch of trout. Some of the fish were very thin in flesh; so thin that they were worthless. It is said fish are so plentiful in the lake that there is not enough for them to eat. Most of the fish weighed from six to seven pounds.... We hear of geysers that shoot steam and hot water fifteen hundred feet in the air, but we have seen no geyser here more than thirty feet high. The big sights are always just over when I come along.... At this hotel, when you wish to take a bath, you go out to the manager’s office, and find a key hanging beside the door. This key opens a door down in the canyon, back of the hotel. The bath consists of a great pool of hot water. There is no roof over the pool, but it is fenced in. Within the enclosure, also, is a pool of cold water, into which you may plunge after a hot bath. Certain hours are devoted to gentlemen, and certain hours to ladies.... Rooms in this hotel are also lighted with candles, and I dislike to blow out my candle and go to bed, as I can smell the extinguished wick half the night.... The food in New Zealand is universally good; we have come to the conclusion that the New Zealanders are famous cooks.... We find a good many private cars touring in this section, as the government devotes much attention to roads, which are generally excellent, barring the terrible dust. Yesterday we met a little Ford machine, and it seemed to be kicking up about as much dust as any of them.... The rainfall here is greater than in the best agricultural sections of the United States, but the bulk of the rain falls in winter, whereas our moisture is better distributed over the growing season.