Fractured EARTH
ON A WINTER’S NIGHT in 1886, the earth ripped in two.
The sleeping menace of Mt Tarawera had finally awoken, and it meant business.
The sound of its almighty bellow was heard in Auckland – its smoke seen in Christchurch.
People in Rotorua thought the world was ending.
“Every man, woman and child thought their end had come. The sensation was fearful and indescribable,” an eye witness told The Evening Star.
The scenes sounded apocalyptic – an electrical storm raged overhead, the skies rained fire and boiling springs opened up where previously there were none.
One woman was reportedly swallowed by a hungry mud pit, and several villages were buried in ash and mud.
The official death toll was 153, but some suspect it was much higher due to inaccurate statistics of the Māori population.
The longest-grieved casualty of the
