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SCENES IN THE HAWAIIAN ISLANDS AND CALIFORNIA.

BY MARY E. ANDERSON.

"The isles shall wait upon me, and on mine arm shall they trust."

                                                ISAIAH II. 5.

BOSTON: THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. Instituted 1814. DEPOSITORIES, 28
CORNHILL, BOSTON, AND 13 BIBLE HOUSE, ASTOR PLACE, NEW YORK.




Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by
THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of
Massachusetts.

CORNHILL PRESS:
DAKIN AND METCALF,
BOSTON.




NOTE BY THE PUBLISHERS.


In the year 1863, Rev. Rufus Anderson, D. D., senior Secretary of the
American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, visited the
Hawaiian Islands on official business connected with the missionary work
of that institution. He was accompanied, in that visit, by his wife and
daughter, the latter of whom preserved some memoranda of the journey and
the scenes to which it introduced her, for the gratification of her
friends. From these notes the present volume has been prepared. The
interest which the friends of missions in this country have long
cherished for that people--youngest born in the family of Christian
nations--will lead them to welcome these unpretending sketches, as
affording both instruction and entertainment to themselves and their
children.




CONTENTS.


CHAPTER I.--FROM NEW YORK TO ASPINWALL.

The Bargain.--Our Steamer and Staterooms.--A Schooner
in a bad Place.--Porpoises.--Pirate Alabama.                      9

CHAPTER II.--ISTHMUS OF DARIEN.

Baggage.--Wreck.--Isthmus Toilets.--Aspinwall.--Tropical
Scenery.--Huts.                                                  17

CHAPTER III.--PANAMA.

Tiled Houses.--Emigrants.--"Nice Lomonard."--First-Class
Hotel.--Mud Pies and Clean Clothes.--Crabs.--Aquaria.
--Borrowed Houses.--Cathedral.--At Anchor.--Toboga.
--Accommodations.--Dessert.                                      24

CHAPTER IV.--FROM PANAMA TO SAN FRANCISCO.

A Rocket.--Acapulco.--On Shore.--Adobe Houses.--Market-Place.
--No Breakfast.--Boys Diving.--Devil-Fish.--A real
Sunday.--Manzanilla.--Golden Gate.--Baby Afloat.--Lives
Lost.--Backbone of America.--Inspecting.--"Baa."--Bill
of Fare.--At the Wharf.                                          33

CHAPTER V.--SAN FRANCISCO.

Lick House.--At Church.--Mission Dolores.--Street Cars.--A
Ride.--Hills.--Surf.--Old Church and Burying-Ground.--The
One Rose.--Good-bys.--Union Jack.--"Dropped Down."--The
Bar.--All Sails set.--Racks.--Rolls.--Bell Buoy.                 45

CHAPTER VI.--HONOLULU.

Desolation.--A Delightful Contrast.--Boats Alongside.
--Hurrah!--Farewells and Greetings.--A Home on Shore.
--Friends.--Cousins' Society.--Fairy-Land.--The
Serenade.--Church Bells.--Native Church.--Native Industry,
Liberality, and Perseverance.--Dress.--"Aloha."                  54

CHAPTER VII.--HONOLULU CONTINUED.

A Dinner Party.--Punch Bowl.--An extinct Crater.--Taro
Patches.--Ovens.--Poi and Raw Fish.--Fingers better
than Spoons.--A Donation Party.--Prince William.--Tomb
of the Kings.--Prayer-Meeting.--Examination.--A Green
Rose.--Home Letters.--The Palace.--The Queen.--Riding in
a Royal Carriage.--Horseback-Riding Party.--Native Women
Riding.--Church.--Native Pews.--A Quarter of a Dollar.           64

CHAPTER VIII.--FROM HONOLULU TO HILO.

Steamer's Deck.--Hair Decorations.--The Queen and her Suite.
--The Queen's Guard.--Singular Accommodations.--Lahaina.--A
Breakfast on Shore.--Kind Natives.--Cocoa-nuts.--Lessons in
Hawaiian.--The King and his Greeting.--Where Captain Cook was
killed.--Such Roads!--Dinner on Shore.--Orange-Trees.
--Precipices.--Cascades.--Waipio.--Hilo.--Landing in the
Surf.--Spiders.                                                  76

CHAPTER IX.--THE VOLCANO.

Gipsies.--Up Hill and Down.--Lame Horse.--An Accommodating
Family.--House Inside and Outside.--A Lowly Table.--Prayers.
--Calabashes.--Native Men.--Started again.--A Rain.--Gigantic
Ferns.--Volcano House.--A Table again.--The Crater and its
Wonders.--A Lake on Fire.--Lava.--Blow Hole.--"There, there,"
a grand Chorus.--Aa.--Ohelo Berries.                             86

CHAPTER X.--A STORY ABOUT KAPIOLANI.

A Christian Princess.--A Heathen God insulted.--The True
God worshiped.--Tabu.--A Gallop.--A Dingy Hut changed to a
Fairy Bower.--Hard Riding.--Rest.--Departure.--Surf Boards.      97

CHAPTER XI.--KAU AND JOURNEY TO KAAWALOA.

Waiohinu Boarding-School.--Familiar Hymns and Tunes.--Flower
Wreaths and Wands.--Preaching to Foreigners.--Saddle-Bags.
--Aa.--Pahoihoi.--Candle-Nut.--Rest at Night.--Tapa.--Arrival
at Kaawaloa.--Kapiolani's House.--Bonaparte.--Kindness.         106

CHAPTER XII.--KAAWALOA.

City of Refuge.--Lava Falls.--Kaahumanu's Rock.--Great
Chief.--Captain Cook.--Monthly Concert.--Cook's Death.
--Meager Monuments.--Oranges.--Breadfruit.--Food.
--Cockroaches.--Ants.                                           116

CHAPTER XIII.--KAILUA.

Carriage Broken.--Cocoa-nut Milk.--"Pilikia."--"Maikai."
--Prickly Pear.--Thorns.--Century Plant.--Wonder at the
Carriage.--Fear of the Horses.--Donation.--Anniversary.
--Communion.--Steamer arrived.--Carried by the Natives.
--Children.--Arrival at Honoipu.--Ugly-Horse.--White Mule.
--Showers.--Welcome.                                            127

CHAPTER XIV.--KOHALA AND WAIMEA.

Rain.--Large Shrubs.--Fruit.--"Keika Wahine."--"The
Promised Land."--Enthusiastic Meeting.--Original
Hymns.--Address by Timotao Nalanipo.--Shaking Hands.            137

CHAPTER XV.--MAUI.

Horseback Journey from Waimea to Kowaihae.--A Heathen
Temple.--Sacrifices.--Steamer.--A Storm of Sand.--A
Deluge.--Gifts.--Singing.--Iao Valley.--Shelling.
--Precipices.--A Novel Sketch.--The Needle.--War.--A
Race.--Ravages of a Waterspout.--Sail in a Whale-Boat.
--Lahaina from the Sea.--Lahainaluna.--Examination.
--Generals.--Commencement.--Dinner.                             150

CHAPTER XVI.--LAHAINA--KAUAI.

Ride.--Cocoa-nut Grove.--American Consul's House.--Sugar
Mill and Making.--Dust.--Communion.--Singing old Tunes.
--Exhibition.--Love Tokens.--At Honolulu again.--Calls
on the Father and Sister of the King.--"Annie Laurie."
--Sea-Sickness.--Arrival at Kauai.--Princeville.--A
Beautiful Bouquet.--View.--Journey.--A Fall from a Horse.
--Lunch.--A Resting-Place.--A Bluff.                            163

CHAPTER XVII.--KAUAI AND OAHU.

Flowers.--A Coach and Four.--Lassos.--Lihue.--Wailua Falls.
--Koloa.--Spouting Horn.--Church.--A Large Cavalcade.--An
Arid Place.--Waimea.--"Old Jonah."--Sandboats and Forts on
the Beach.--Garden.--Koloa again.--A Dinner.--Another Trip
in the Annie Laurie.--A Salt Lake.--Ewa.--Lunch at Kahuku.
--A pretty Bathing-Place.--Peacocks.--Idols.                    174

CHAPTER XVIII.--OAHU.

Native Pastor.--Dinner.--Lassoing.--Falls of Ka Liuwaa.
--The Canoe.--Kaneohe.--A Runaway.--The Pali.--Defeated
Warriors.--Return to Honolulu.--Missionaries.--General
Meeting.--Examination at Oahu College.--Exhibition.--Flags.
--President's Levee.--Harmony.--Number of Converts.
--Cousins' Meeting.                                             185

CHAPTER XIX.--HONOLULU AGAIN.

General Meeting.--A Fine Garden.--Mangoes.--Apple-Tree.
--Decorations for the Schoolhouse.--Cousins' Annual
Meeting.--Laying the Burden down and Taking it up.
--Lizards.--Scorpions and Centipedes.--Farewell Party.
--Gifts.--A Donation Party.--Diamond Head.--Natives on
Horseback.--Rat.--Ordination of Mr. H. H. Parker.
--Candy-Pull.--Fourth of July.--An Oration.--A Picnic.
--Farewell Address.--"Aloha."--The Islands left behind.         197

CHAPTER XX.--VOYAGE TO SAN FRANCISCO.

Calms.--A Patient Captain.--"All Serene."--Flying Fish.
--Porpoises.--Whales.--"Skip Jacks."--Peanuts.--Colored
Water.--The Farallone Islands.--Birds, Seals, and Sea
Lions.--A Train of Cars.--Golden Gate and Fort Point.
--Alcatraces Island.--Arrival in San Francisco.                 208

CHAPTER XXI.--CALIFORNIA.

A Drive.--Seals.--Portuguese Men of War.--Little Birds.
--Steamer Yo Semite.--Shipping.--St. Paul's Bay.--Suisun
Bay.--Benicia.--Monte Diablo.--Sacramento River.--Arrival
at Sacramento.--A Long Bridge.--Journey to Folsom.--Willow
Springs Mines.--Fair Grounds.--High Prices.--A Ride around
Sacramento.--Levees.--Two Floods.--New Capitol.--Warm
Weather.--Departure.--A Slough.--Watermelon Seeds.
--Oakland.--A Long Ride.--A Fine Orchard.--Nectarines and
Apricots.--Sailing on the Golden Age.--Farewell.                217

CHAPTER XXII.--HOMEWARD BOUND.

At Sea again.--A Cozy Room.--A Choir.--Sermons.--Beautiful
Evenings.--A Hurricane.--Dangers and Discomforts.--A Crash
and Crashes.--"My Father rules the Storm."--A Meeting for
Thanksgiving.--Acapulco Harbor.--Arrival at Panama.--Articles
for Sale.--Telegraph Posts.--Concrete.--"The Flower of the
Holy Ghost."--Matachin.--Iron Bridge.--Sensitive Plant.
--Steamer Champion.--West India Islands.--A Privateer.--Gulf
Stream.--Lighthouses.--At Anchor.--Our Voyage Ended.--A
Hymn.--The Lord's Prayer in English and Hawaiian.               227




THE HAWAIIAN ISLANDS.




I.

From New York to Aspinwall.


"Tell us a story, aunty,--tell us a story," came in pleading tones from
a group of children; and they watched my face with eager eyes to see if
I looked willing.

"A story, children; what shall it be about?"

"About the places you went to while you were gone, and the people you
saw."

"Now, aunty," said Carrie, who was one of the older ones, "we are going
to be here a whole month, and if you will tell us a story every day, we
shall know all about your journey."

I thought the matter over for a few minutes. "Well, children," said I,
"I'll make a bargain with you. If you will promise to get your work done
nicely every day by four o'clock, I will tell you a story until
tea-time."

"A bargain! a bargain!" shouted the children.

       *       *       *       *       *

It was winter when we went away, you remember, though there was no snow
on the ground. We went on board the steamer Ocean Queen, in New York, on
the 12th of January. Uncle George went down with us, and what a crowd
there was on the wharf,--men and boys, coachmen and porters! It was some
time before our carriage could get inside the wharf-gates, and when I
got out, it seemed as if horses' heads were all about me; but seeing
Uncle George was not afraid, I took courage, and keeping close behind
him, soon left the horses. I found the people were worse than the
horses; but after many jostlings and pushings, I got into the saloon,
safe and sound, all but a rent in my dress.

Grandma and I stayed there, while grandpa and Uncle George went to look
after the baggage. Strangers were all around us, and we couldn't tell
who were our fellow-voyagers, and who not. Soon one and another of our
friends came to say good-by. It was all very much confused, and we were
glad finally when we were actually off.

Then I took a look at the stateroom where we were to spend ten nights.
What a little box, almost too small to turn round in!--and our berths
had so little space between them that we couldn't sit up at all. We went
to bed early, quite disgusted with sea-life to begin with, and were
wondering how we could get along for ten days thus cooped up, with hard
beds, and not much to eat; for we had had no dinner that day,
when--crash! a shock--and the machinery stopped! What could it be? Heads
were popped out of staterooms, and "What's the matter?" was in every
mouth. We had run into a small schooner, which had imprudently tried to
cross our bows. For an hour there was noise overhead,--men running
across the deck; and then all was still, only the thump, thump of our
engine; so we went to sleep, thanking our Heavenly Father that no worse
thing had happened to us.

"Aunty," said Harry, "what became of the poor schooner?"

We gave her one of our boats, and the captain thought he could get her
into port; but she leaked badly, and I afterwards heard he had to run
her ashore on some beach just out of New York.

Next morning, in my forgetfulness, I attempted to sit up in my berth,
and gave my head a great bump on grandma's berth. On the third night out
we had a heavy gale, and one of our sails was blown away with a noise
like that of a cannon.

"Aunty," said little Alice, "do steamers have sails?"

Yes, we always had a sail on the foremast; it steadies the ship, and if
the wind is right helps the vessel. Almost every body was sea-sick
during that gale, for it lasted two days. We went scarcely a hundred
miles, and were off Savannah when it cleared up.

"Oh, I know where Savannah is," said Harry; "it was in my last geography
lesson."

When Sabbath came, it was very rough, so we could not have preaching. We
sung a few hymns, but were rather quiet, when the cry, "Porpoises!
porpoises!" made us run to the side of the vessel; and sure enough,
there was a whole school of them rolling along in great glee. They are
light brown fishes, varying in shade, some four feet long, some less.
The female and young keep side by side, and leap out of the water at the
same time. They jump out of the white crest of one wave into the next,
racing along, seeming to try and keep up with the ship. It was very
exciting, and the passengers shouted; for, excepting a few birds, they
were the first living thing out of the ship we had seen for six days.
All the rest of that day we were running so near the Florida coast that
we could see the green trees on shore. We could hardly believe it was
mid-winter. The water looked shallow, and we grazed the end of a
sand-bank, after which they kept the vessel farther from the shore. We
saw some great green sea-turtles that day; they were about three feet
long. Our wheel turned one over on his back. I wanted to watch him; but
we soon left him far, far behind.

We went round by the west of Cuba, to keep out of the way of the pirate
Alabama. Monday morning, about nine o'clock, we came in sight of a
gunboat. Soon after passing her, boom! went her cannon, and we came to a
stand-still. She sent her boat with an officer, who came on board and
got newspapers. That gunboat is stationed there to give warning of
pirates, I suppose, and she is required to stop every vessel. The final
excitement was left for Tuesday morning, when we were near Cape San
Antonio, Cuba. While at breakfast, word came that there were two
steamers ahead. It was whispered about that the larger was the Alabama;
so we all went on deck to get a good look. Though they showed the Union
flag, we were rather suspicious of them; and when they both started in
pursuit and fired their cannon, our captain steamed in toward the land;
for if vessels get within three miles of a neutral shore, no hostile
craft can touch them. We came to anchor in plain sight of Cuba's green
hills, and waited anxiously for our pursuers, who had fired a second
cannon. They both lowered a boat. We feared we should see the rebel rag,
but were joyful when our own stars and stripes were unrolled to the
breeze. The vessels proved to be the Wachusett, Com. Wilkes's flag-ship,
and the gunboat Sonoma, Capt. Stevens. So there ended our fright about
pirates. For the next two days we were sailing across the Caribbean Sea,
and on Friday, Jan. 23, about eight o'clock in the evening, went up Navy
Bay to the wharf at Aspinwall. It was too dark to see the groves of
cocoa-nuts on shore; so I had to wait for my view of tropical trees
until morning.

There is the tea-bell; so we shall have to pause here until to-morrow.




II.

Isthmus of Darien.


As soon as the clock struck four, Carrie, Alice, Willie, and Harry
reminded me of my promise, and having all finished their work, were
ready for story Number Two.

"Aunty," said Carrie, "Alice and I have finished our squares of
patchwork, and Willie and Harry have weeded that flower-bed for grandpa;
so you see we have done our part of the bargain, and now we have come
for your part."

I'm all ready for my part, said I.

Before we arrived at Aspinwall, old travelers told us that if we got
there before ten at night, we should have to leave the steamer and go to
the hotels. We were, therefore, selfishly relieved to find that all the
hotels had been burned to the ground about Christmas time. So we stayed
on board the steamer that night, and how glad we were to think it was
our last night there. We heard that the steamer upon which we were to
embark on the other side was a very large one, and about five in the
morning, after a comfortless breakfast of poor coffee without milk, and
hard bread, we turned our back on the Ocean Queen, without regret. A
stout, half-naked negro shouldered our baggage, and we were actually
treading the soil of the Isthmus of Darien.

"Did he carry your trunks, aunty?" said Willie.

Oh, no, dear, we had our trunks all weighed the day before. We were
only allowed fifty pounds of baggage apiece, and for all over that we
had to pay ten cents for every pound. They gave grandpa checks for the
trunks; so the man only took our bags and deck chairs. He took what we
ourselves couldn't carry.

On the beach near us, was the stranded wreck of the British ship Avon, a
large, noble vessel, lying on her side. In a gale some time ago, she
dragged her anchors, I believe, and was blown by the wind far up on the
sand.

It was quite a picturesque scene at the cars, in the early morning
light. We passed through a small grove of cocoa-nuts. I really was
disappointed in them; but these were dwarf-trees, and not good samples.
The passengers were standing in groups with their bags at their feet, or
on the head of some native near by. The cars were before us, and native
women passed about with their waiters of fruit and cakes. They were
dressed in white or light-colored muslin or calico skirts, flounced,
torn, and dirty; a white chemise, with a ruffle round the neck trimmed
with lace, and a bandanna handkerchief tied round the head completed
their toilet. In a picture it would look very well; as it was, one
dreaded too close a contact, they were so dirty. Some of their attitudes
were very graceful. The men had on shirts and pantaloons, the former
generally worn as a sack. After much scrambling, we were seated in the
cars, hot and disgusted.

"Hot, aunty, and in January too?" said Carrie.

If you look on your map, you will find that Aspinwall is not very far
from the equator. They have no winter there, and the sun is very
powerful.

Soon after we started, all other feelings were lost in intense delight
at the luxuriant tropical verdure about us. Aspinwall is on a coral
island close to the shore, and is low and unhealthy. The name of the
island is Manzanilla. The natives call the town Colon, from Columbus or
Christoval Colon, as his name is in Spanish. The railroad was five years
in being built, under almost unheard-of difficulties; and any person
going over it might learn to appreciate some of them, after seeing the
rich, tangled, luxuriant vegetation in the low, wet grounds. How I
longed to know the names of the beautiful flowers fringing the road; but
no one could tell me. First we passed through a swamp of purple and
white azaleas; then one of snowy callas; then near a bank hidden from
view by heavy morning-glory vines in bloom, still dripping with dew. We
saw a great many specimens of what I was told was the "long palm;" it
looked to me like a kind of brake or fern, with drooping branches twenty
feet in length. There were trees with hardly a leaf; but each branch
and twig crowned with orange-yellow blossoms. Again we would see a tree
covered with feathery, purple flowers. Along some parts of the way, was
a profusion of "Indian shot," so called, I suppose, because the seeds
are black, hard, and round, looking like large shot. Here and there
drooped a vine with brilliant scarlet blossoms. Once in a while we would
see the deep green of the orange-tree, or the lighter foliage of the
lemon, and finally a banana-tree, with its bunch of fruit, gladdened my
eyes. There were many trees with parasitic plants growing on them,
looking as if ropes were hanging from them. It is said that if one of
these groves of ferns on the Isthmus is cut down, in three months the
vegetation has grown so rapidly as to look as if no human hand had ever
interfered with them. One wanted several pairs of eyes to take in all
the beauty of the scene.

[Illustration: PANAMA VEGETATION.--Page 22.]

There were various way-stations upon the railroad, having neat white
houses, with a piazza upon both stories. Before and around some of them
are pretty gardens, with bright flowers, conspicuous among them being
our fragrant roses, such as rarely bloom with us except in green-houses.
We passed many native huts grouped in small villages, with their
inhabitants sitting in the doorway or lounging about the premises, the
children running round half naked or entirely so. Most of these people
are freed Jamaica slaves. They seemed to be a happy but indolent race.
Fruits grow about them with such prodigality as to require but little
exertion to obtain the necessities of life. Their huts are made of
bamboo rods, thatched with palm-leaves.

But there is the tea-bell.




III.

Panama.


"Come, come, aunty," shouted Willie, "the clock has struck four; so put
down your sewing, and tell us about Panama. We've finished our work
beautifully, grandma says." So I began.

       *       *       *       *       *

When we reached Panama, about nine o'clock, it was very warm and sultry.
The soil is sandy. Though the present city of Panama is not more than
two hundred years old, it has an ancient and dilapidated appearance. The
climate is such that even the stones decay, and worms destroy the wood.
The houses are all tiled and look oddly enough. The tiles resemble the
half of an earthen water-pipe, and are of a light brick-color. We had
quite a laugh on the wharf at our grotesque appearance, likening
ourselves to emigrants; for our bags, chairs, shawls, and umbrellas were
all laid in a heap, and grandma and I sat on them, while grandpa went
off to make arrangements for going on board the steamer, or spending the
day in the city. The natives bowed before us with their baskets of
fruit, which they offered for sale.

"What fruit was it, aunty?" asked little Alice.

Mangoes, pineapples, limes, oranges, and bananas. They had also rolls,
cakes, and pies. Then some came with the native wine, and with milk and
lemonade, which the man said was "nice lomonard!"

We decided to stay in Panama until afternoon, when a small boat would
take us off to our noble steamship, the Constitution. We left our
baggage at the station, and took the railway omnibus, drawn by mules,
which were driven by a negro, up to the "first-class hotel,--the
Aspinwall House." He took us a distance of half a mile, perhaps, at the
moderate charge of fifty cents apiece! The streets of Panama are very
narrow, and the driver had to call out every once in a while to clear
the road, so that we might pass. The hotel is built round a court. The
parlor is in the third story, and is quite comfortably furnished, while
from the walls hang oil paintings, which, with their frames, might in
New York be worth two dollars and a half apiece. Two long windows opened
out on a balcony, and commanded a view of the hoary tiled roofs of the
city. There was a center-table in the room, which interested me much. It
had pictures pasted under the varnish, some colored, some not. There was
a pair of scissors, a pen, a needle-case, wafers,--all looking just as
if you could pick them up. What a nice breakfast we had there! every
thing tasted so good on shore.

"Aunty," said Harry, "tell us what you had for breakfast."

Let me see if I can remember. First we had fish and eggs, with fried
potatoes and bananas. Then we had beefsteak, coffee, tea, and iced
claret, as it isn't safe to drink the water there.

After breakfast, we sallied out to see the sights. We walked across the
public square, down to the fortifications, and there gathered some
beautiful yellow flowers, which I pressed. We saw plenty of natives in
their scant dresses. One little black fellow I was particularly amused
with. He had on a little blue shirt, which his mother had tied up in a
knot in the middle of his back; and there he was enjoying his mud pies,
and keeping his clothes clean too. We walked down on the beach outside
the city walls; for Panama is a walled town. Here we picked up shells
on the sand. The little crabs were very thick, and scampered away from
under our feet to their sandy holes, the opening of which looked as
round and even as if made by a cane,--just such as I used to make when I
was a little girl, after a hard rain, with the tip of my umbrella. As we
wandered over the rocks, for it was low tide, we found an exquisite
little natural aquarium, all stocked with its tiny inhabitants. It was a
circular rock, with two irregular terraces, and at its top a little
basin, deep here and shallow there; its bottom was all covered with
little spots of pearly whiteness, looking as if inlaid. The little
shell-fish clung lovingly to its side; the crabs, in their borrowed
tenements, crept securely about; and the funny little fishes darted
through the cool, clear waters. Many a wealthy nobleman would like to
have that treasure of nature in his garden; yet perhaps no human eye
had ever noted its beauty before.

"Aunty, what do you mean by the borrowed tenements of the crabs?" asked
Carrie.

There is one kind of crab that likes to live in a shell; so if they find
one empty, they take possession of it; they are called "hermit crabs."
We often used to pick up a shell with a crab in it.

At three o'clock we went to the cathedral, which was open at that hour.
The front of it is rather imposing; but the doors are roughly boarded
up, and do not look as well as our common barn-doors. We went in at a
side-door. There are many shrines adorned with tinsel and cotton lace,
but neither beautiful nor pleasing. There was a little girl, a child of
one of our fellow-passengers, in the cathedral; and knowing that grandpa
was a minister, she walked up to him and said, "Do you preach here?"
The chief features of interest to me were the pointed towers at either
side of the front, which are roofed with pearl shells. Pearls of great
beauty are found on various parts of the coast, and there are stores
particularly devoted to the sale of them. We visited the ruins of a
Jesuit college, also the old church of San Domingo. Some of the arches
in the latter are well preserved, and are crested with beautiful shrubs
and vines in full bloom. The natives called us "Americanos" as we
passed. About four, we took our places again in the omnibus, and in a
little while were at the wharf, where we bought a supply of bananas,
oranges, and pineapples. Embarking again on the little steam-tug, we
enjoyed a pleasant sail across the Bay of Panama, with the city and its
crumbling walls behind us. In about half an hour we came in sight of a
large fleet of steamers; for it is here the company keep their spare
vessels. Among them were the St. Louis, California, Guatemala, and our
own beautiful Constitution,--larger and finer than any of the others,
with our old voyage companions smiling their greetings over its side. It
seemed a long while since we had seen them, and it was quite like
getting home to have them about us.

We lay at anchor all night, and the next morning, Jan. 25, at six
o'clock, our Pacific voyage commenced. We passed in the bay the
mountainous island Toboga, with a pretty little village lying snugly
cradled at its base. From this island's cool, clear, springs, the
drinking water of Panama, is obtained.

"Don't they have wells in Panama?" inquired Carrie.

Yes; but the water is brackish and warm.

"What is 'brackish,' aunty?" said Alice.

Having a salt taste,--not pure. Our Constitution was very different
from the Ocean Queen, it being very clean and sweet. When we went on
board, the dinner-table was set in the long saloon, and every thing
looked as in our best hotels. We occupied a nice stateroom, having a
French bed with curtains, a sofa, a mirror on the wall, and some very
convenient shelves. We had, also, good washing arrangements; so that we
were well settled for a two weeks' voyage. There were three waiters to
each table, while there was but one on the other steamer. The dessert
was prettily arranged, on tables at either end of the saloon. All the
orders were given by a bell. The waiters went together to the
dessert-tables, and each took a dish of pudding, or cake, or fruit and
nuts, perhaps. The bell struck, and they moved in procession to their
places, when at another signal they placed the dishes upon the table.

Ah! there is _our_ bell, and we must go. Carrie, you may head the
procession.




IV.

From Panama to San Francisco.


"Aunty, where are you?" cried little Alice, and then a gentle knock on
my door reminded me that it was four o'clock. "We are all ready waiting
in the sitting-room, and Fanny Mason is there, too, because she wants to
hear our stories. You are willing; an't you, aunty?"

Oh, yes, Alice, any of your friends may come that wish. So I took my
little pet's hand, and went down to my waiting group to tell my story.

       *       *       *       *       *

We had beautiful summer weather, and quite forgot that it was January.
On the 29th we passed a distant volcano, and early in the morning saw
the smoke at its summit. The name of the volcano is Colenso, and it is
in Guatemala. It was first seen in the night, and our men sent up a
rocket as a signal, supposing it to be the light of another steamer, but
they soon saw their mistake.

The coast is mountainous all the way to San Francisco; we kept it in
sight nearly all the time except when crossing the Gulfs of Tehuantepec
and California. The sea was almost invariably smooth.

We arrived at Acapulco, in Mexico, Saturday, Jan. 31, at daybreak;
having sailed 1,440 miles in six days. As grandpa and grandma were not
going on shore, I had not thought of doing so; but quite a party of our
acquaintance went, and I was invited to join them. I was glad to go; for
I longed to step on Mexican soil.

We had a native boat and four rowers. The sail was a very pleasant one,
and we were soon on the low, sandy beach. Part of the town was destroyed
by an earthquake two years ago; but the adobe houses are so simply
constructed that they can be rebuilt with little difficulty.

"What are _adobe_ houses?" asked Carrie.

Houses built of hardened clay. They take a mold like the sides of a box
with the bottom out, and press it full of mud; when turned out, it looks
like a great mud brick, and is left for the sun to dry.

We went up to the market-place, where the Mexican women, children, and
dogs were all huddled together, with their wares spread out in most
tempting array; coral, colored with most brilliant dyes; shells of
various kinds, some on long strings like necklaces, and some single and
highly polished. Fruits were plenty,--bananas, granadas, oranges, and
limes. We had our chocolate and eggs ordered; but just at that moment,
boom! went our ship's cannon to recall us, so we had to go back without
our breakfast; but we took some beautiful flowers and a few shells. The
forts had been bombarded by the French about a month before, but looked
as if they were little injured. The harbor is small, but one of the
finest on the whole Pacific coast. The native boys swam out to the ship,
and would dive for silver coin thrown to them. It was astonishing to see
how far down in the water they would go for it, and almost invariably
get it. Then they would put it in their mouths, and be ready for
another. One boy, the quickest of the lot, must have had a dozen pieces
in his mouth at one time.

A shark and a devil-fish came near the ship--

"A _devil-fish!_" the children all exclaimed; "_why_, what sort of a
fish is that?"

It is very large, having a pointed head with projecting fins of great
breadth, triangular and resembling wings, making the fish broader than
it is long, even including the tail. The encyclopædia says one was
caught in the Atlantic, off Delaware Bay, in 1823, which was so heavy as
to require three pairs of oxen, a horse, and several men to drag it
ashore. It weighed about five tons, and measured seventeen and a quarter
feet long, and eighteen feet broad; the skin was blackish-brown, and
underneath, black and white; its mouth was two feet nine inches wide,
and the skull five feet. One was captured in the harbor of Kingston on
the island of Jamaica, which had strength enough to drag three or four
boats fastened together at the rate of four miles an hour. The mouth of
this one was four and a half feet wide, and three feet deep, large
enough to contain the body of a man.

The day after we left Acapulco was the Sabbath, and we had service in
the saloon in the morning, which made it seem quite like a home
Sabbath, and many were delighted to have a "real Sunday." A table was
covered with an American flag; this was the pulpit. The Bible was laid
on it, and grandpa preached. We sat around on the saloon sofas. The
captain could not attend, as we were nearing the town of Manzanilla.
Just as the sermon was finished, we stopped before that picturesque
village. I believe the town proper is inland. The few houses on the
shore looked very neat, being white-washed, making a very pretty
contrast with the deep green of the lofty hills beyond.

After two hours' sail from Manzanilla, we passed the wreck of the
steamer Golden Gate, which was burned some time since, causing the loss
of so many lives. Vessels are stationed there to procure treasure from
the wreck, and we received from them more than two hundred thousand
dollars to carry to San Francisco.

One of our officers was on the Golden Gate when it was burned, and he
told some thrilling stories of the disaster. A great many strong, grown
people were drowned in the terrible surf; yet one little baby, only six
weeks old, floated safely to the shore. God took care of her, you see.
The men carried her by turns, as they walked their weary way over the
mountains to Manzanilla, and fed her with scraped potato, a barrel of
potatoes having washed ashore.

How many sorrowful feelings were called up by the sight of that one
wheel lying on the beach; for that is all that is left of the ill-fated
Golden Gate! How many lives were lost in those peaceful waters over
which we were sailing so pleasantly! Our officers told us that it was
just such a bright, beautiful day; but the surf here is very high, and
with our glass we could see it foaming and tossing on the beach. In our
hearts many of us thanked God for our present safety, and prayed him to
save us from such a fate. Just before we neared the wreck, we passed by
some rocks on the coast, looking just like a ruined castle, with
beautiful green trees all around them, as if it were a nobleman's
garden.

It is not easy to keep the Sabbath properly on one of these ocean
steamers; for little distinction is observed in the days by the crew. We
did, however, the best we could. It seemed more like the Sabbath in the
evening, when a goodly number of us collected together in the saloon,
and sung hymns and tunes, just as many of us would have done were we in
our loved homes, so far away. That night we commenced crossing the Gulf
of California, and all day Monday we saw no land. Almost every evening
we walked upon the upper deck, which was a very fine promenade three
hundred and seventy feet long.

Tuesday we saw Cape St. Lucas, which you know is the end of the long
peninsula of California, and were in sight of the shore all the way
after that. I was constantly surprised at the grandeur of this western
coast, with its magnificent chains of mountains, rising peak above peak,
and fleecy clouds resting on their summits. There was no break in these
chains all the way to San Francisco. I heard them called the backbone of
America, and they are among the grandest works of the Creator. After
passing Cape St. Lucas, we had colder weather.

But I must not forget to tell you of my going around the ship, with the
commodore, when he was "inspecting" it. Grandma was not well enough to
go, but grandpa and I went. How I wish you could have peeped with me
into all the cupboards and utensils, and have seen how neat every thing
was,--the dishes were so white, the glasses so clear, and the tins so
bright! The commodore rubbed his fingers inside of a kettle, and if they
were the least bit soiled, it would have to be done over again. On one
shelf was a great pile of loaves of bread. We went into the
slaughter-room, to see the butcher's establishment; it was as clean and
sweet as a kitchen. The little lamb, three days old, was brought out for
my amusement, and doubtless pleased its mamma very much by showing off,
and saying "baa," like a dutiful child! What a funny party we were, the
portly commodore with your small aunty leaning on his arm, he sliding
through narrow doors sideways, pulling me after him; then tall grandpa,
and our little thin surgeon following in his train! I asked the head
steward to tell me how much he cooked every day for all on board. We had
about five hundred passengers, beside officers and crew. He told me
fifty gallons of soup, fifty pounds of mutton, ninety pounds of pork,
four hundred and seventy-five pounds of beef, sixteen pounds of ham,
twenty-four chickens, ten turkeys, eight hundred pounds of potatoes,
two barrels of flour, making two hundred and twenty-five loaves of
bread, fifty pies, forty-five pounds of butter, five pounds of lard,
five pounds of cheese, and ten gallons of milk. Just think what a great
boarding-house our steamer was!

On the 7th of February, we entered the "Golden Gate" of California, and
about four o'clock were at the wharf at San Francisco.

"The _Golden Gate!_" said wee Alice, in astonishment, "They don't really
have a golden gate; do they?"

We all laughed at the little one's earnestness, and then I told her it
was only a narrow entrance to San Francisco Bay, perhaps a mile wide
between the headlands.

"Well, what do they call it so for?" said she.

I suppose because a great many who went to California thought they would
get a great deal of gold, and as they all went through that narrow
entrance, it was called the Golden Gate.

"Supper, supper," here cried grandma. "Don't you hear the bell?" and
again it sounded its merry summons to tea.




V.

San Francisco.


"Aunty," said Willie at my elbow, "we are waiting for you. You know we
arrived at San Francisco yesterday, and we want to hear about it now."
So I went down to my little flock of listeners.

       *       *       *       *       *

We stayed at the "Lick House" on Montgomery Street,--

"_Lick House!_" cried Harry. "What a funny name! What made them call it
so?"

It was named for a Mr. Lick, who built it. It is a very nice hotel, and
we were very glad to be again on land.

It took our friends but a short time to find out we were there; for we
received some calls before we had our bonnets off, and they continued to
come until bedtime. Beds!--how delightful to get into a real bed again
after being so long in berths; for though, on the Constitution, grandpa
and grandma had a bed, I had my narrow shelf.

The next day was the Sabbath. We attended Rev. Mr. Lacy's church in the
morning, and heard Rev. Mr. Bartlett of Santa Cruz preach. In the
afternoon, we went out to the "Mission Dolores," to the installation of
Rev. Mr. Beckwith. We were glad to arrive in California in time to see
him installed, and it was pleasant for grandpa and Mr. Beckwith to meet
again; for the latter was once the President of Oahu College in the
Sandwich Islands. All day Monday, friends came to see us, and were so
cordial and kind that it did our hearts good.

Tuesday afternoon, thanks to a kind friend, we went to ride. How
delightful it was to be in a carriage again, on a good road, with fine
horses, after our imprisonment on board ship! Some of the streets are
paved with planks, some partially so; others are very sandy, while some
are hard and smooth. We rode over the hills southwest of San Francisco,
where we got a fine view of the city and parts of the bay. I had
expected to find San Francisco a level place; but it is just the
reverse; for it is built on several very high hills. They have been
slashed and cut into unmercifully, which greatly injures the looks of
the older part of the city. We had a fast trot on the beach near the
Ocean House. What a surf! White-crested billows came roaring and
tumbling in, seeming as if ready to ingulf us. We passed a poor
shattered fragment of a recent wreck, now almost imbedded in the sand,
and it made me shudder to think of being wrecked on that cruel shore.
It was a vessel but a little smaller than the one we were to sail in;
and I sent up a silent petition to our heavenly Father to save us from
such a calamity. Our good friend often stopped the carriage to pick us
wild-flowers, which were beginning to fringe the roadside, and told us
that only a few weeks hence these hills would be rainbow-hued with
countless blossoms. Roses grow here in the gardens all the year round,
and bouquets graced our table while we remained. On our way back, we
rode through the "Mission Dolores," the seat of an old Catholic mission,
and stopped at the church, an ancient looking adobe building, with a
tiled roof like the Panama houses. We peeped in; then walked through the
burying-ground adjoining, where bloomed a great variety of flowers,
among them some beautiful tea-roses. I wanted very much to pick just
one; but I saw a notice as I went in, asking us not to do so; and I
thought if every visitor plucked even one rose, there would soon be none
left. Late in the evening, a beautiful bouquet was handed me, and beside
it was one fair, white, exquisite rosebud, which my kind friend said he
brought me because I was so good at the burying-ground. You see how much
more enjoyment I had over my beautiful flowers, because I refrained from
despoiling the grave.

The next day, February 11, we bade good-by to our friends, and went down
to the wharf. Some of our fellow-voyagers still continued with us, going
on to China, after leaving us at the Sandwich Islands. We went off in a
boat to our clipper ship Archer, and were hoisted over the vessel's side
in a chair, with the Union Jack wrapped round us.

"What's the _Union Jack_?" asked Willie.

It is a blue flag with white stars. How strange it seemed!--the little
boat below me, and the black ship's side near, while I went up, up, up,
swung over the rail, and was let down on deck, landing in a group of my
fellow-passengers. That was the way they all came. The wind blew hard,
and we dragged our anchor; so the vessel "dropped down," as the sailors
said, to the lower part of the city, near Meig's wharf. Here we remained
two days, while a storm raged outside the Golden Gate.

Friday, February 13th, we started again, and just after the pilot left
us, we were becalmed on the bar, just opposite the terrible breakers I
had seen while riding. Here we anchored. The sea was rough and
disagreeable, and our captain longed for a stiff breeze to take us out;
for it was not a very safe place to be in. Early in the night, we were
glad to hear the chain-cable taken on board, and to know that we were
actually on our voyage after so many delays.

"Aunty," said Carrie, "I have frequently read of ships 'crossing the
bar;' what does it mean?"

There is often a place at the mouth of a river, or at the entrance of a
harbor or bay, where the sand is washed up in a sort of bank, making the
water shallow just there, so that large ships have to wait until high
tide, or when the water is deepest over those sand-banks or bars, to
come in.

There were seventeen passengers on board; but we were not all of us on
deck together for six days, because the sea was so very rough in
consequence of the storm, by which we had been detained in San Francisco
Bay. On the 19th of February, we got into the trade-winds, which gave us
a steady breeze in the right direction, and for two days we had
twenty-eight sails set most of the time. I longed to be where I could
get a good view of the ship with so many sails out; for I thought she
must look finely.

We had a Chinese steward on board--

"What does a _steward_ do on a ship?" interrupted Harry.

He takes charge of the table and provisions, and often acts as cook. He
had a hard time in securing the dishes; for notwithstanding the racks,
the vessel rolled so that knives and forks slipped off as if they had
wings. Racks are narrow strips, an inch or two high, upon each edge of
the table, and two in the middle, with about a foot's distance between
them. These keep the dishes in place when it is rough. It really did
seem as if the worst rolls came while we were at meals; I suppose we
noticed them more then. Sometimes there was a general slide, and the
passengers would seize a tea-cup with one hand, or a vegetable-dish, or
a chicken, while all held on by the table with the other.

Thursday night, the 26th of February, found us off a headland on the
island of Oahu, and there we spent our first quiet night since leaving
San Francisco. There was a buoy near us, marking the channel. It looked
like a square plank, and was anchored with a bell upon it, which, as the
waves rolled it back and forth, tolled with a mournful sound.

But there's a bell that doesn't sound mournful. It says, "Come to tea!"




VI.

Honolulu.


The clock had hardly finished striking four, when I heard Harry coming
up-stairs two at a time, and "Hurra for the Sandwich Islands!" sounded
at my door. So I laid down my work, and was soon in my usual seat.

       *       *       *       *       *

I had been told by some persons from the islands that I must not expect
to find every where a green and tropical verdure; for much of the
country was barren, unfruitful lava. I was up on deck bright and early,
to see this far-off part of the world. There was "Diamond Head" before
me, an extinct volcanic mountain, of a sort of reddish dust-color, with
its top fallen in, and without a tree or spear of grass. Ah! I thought,
with a sigh, if all the islands are like this, it is well to warn people
not to expect too much. Soon we moved our position, and sailed toward
the port of Honolulu. Then we neared the land, and the pretty little
village of Waikiki, with its thatched cottages snugly reposing in a tall
cocoa-nut grove; then the green trees of Honolulu, and the extinct
crater of the "Punchbowl," its summit fallen in too. But a rent in its
side showed us that it was bright and green within, forming a huge
meadow with its ragged sides. All these opened before us, in delightful
contrast to the desolated crater first seen.

We passed "Telegraph Hill," and soon, in answer to a signal, our flags
were hoisted, and it was known in Honolulu, that the clipper ship
Archer, from San Francisco, was outside with a mail; and in less than
an hour the postmaster's boat was alongside. Mr. Whitney, the editor of
the "Pacific Advertiser," came, also, in his boat to get news and
papers. The captain gave the passengers leave to go on shore, and stay
till three o'clock, and most of them by the courtesy of Mr. Whitney went
in his boat. But the captain claimed two good missionary ladies, who
were on their way to Japan, and ourselves as his party; so we waited
until he was ready; then we took our seats in the chair, wrapped again
in the Union Jack, and were hoisted over into the boat. Just as this
pushed off, and we were looking up to the vessel's side, over which were
leaning the smiling, kind-hearted sailors, the captain called out,
"Boys, can't you give three cheers for the doctor?" Off came every cap,
and three rousing hurras filled the air, bringing tears to our eyes,
through which we took our last look at the beautiful ship Archer. Then
we turned with curiosity to see these islands, so new and strange. I
was in quite a puzzle to know how we were going through the surf without
upsetting our boat, but there was a break in the coral reef which
afforded us a safe entrance. On the wharf were a good many people
watching our approach, and we recognized the familiar faces of some
missionaries together with those of our fellow-passengers who had landed
before us. Many a hearty hand-grasp was given us as we jumped upon the
wharf, the passengers saying "Good-by," and our missionary friends
giving their warm welcomes to the islands.

After thanking our good captain for his kindness to us, we rode to Rev.
Mr. Clark's where our home was to be for a time. We were now actually at
the end of our long voyage; and we thanked our heavenly Father for
preserving us through dangers seen and unseen. The house itself looked
hospitable,--a two-story white building, with a double piazza, all
covered by a vine resembling the grape, its bunches of brown seeds
making the deception more complete. The doors and windows were all open.
I was shown up to a quiet room with white curtains and bed-draperies,
from which an open door led out upon the upper piazza and its green
festoons of vine. What a relief to eyes that had so long gazed only on
the boundless sea!

The missionaries had heard of the arrival of grandpa and grandma, and
soon we were told there were callers below; so down we went. What a
scene! enough to repay us for all our long journey. There were many whom
we had known at our own house, but whom we never dreamed of seeing in
their missionary home. Heart met heart then; some were so happy that
they cried, and tears were in our own eyes too. Thirty-seven called that
day, and we were very weary when night dropped her curtain. Saturday was
the same,--callers all day.

The children of missionaries on these islands have formed an association
among themselves which they call the "Cousin's Society." There was to be
a meeting of this society on Saturday night at Oahu College, Punahou; so
we all went, starting about dark. After driving up a winding
carriage-road, there burst suddenly upon us a fairy scene. The principal
building was low, with trees and vines about it, and it seemed one blaze
of light. The rooms were decorated with exquisite flowers and ferns, and
the young ladies and gentlemen were in their gala dresses. Forty
"Cousins" were present that night. Grandpa made an address to them,
after President Mills had welcomed us. They edit a paper in their
society called the "Maile Wreath." Maile [My-le] is a beautiful vine
that grows on the islands, and is often used for wreaths. We had some
fine music that evening; for many of the "Cousins" sing and play
beautifully. After we had been home awhile, about a dozen of these, on
their return, stopped and serenaded us.

The next day was the Sabbath,--our first Sabbath in what used to be a
heathen land. The church-bells rung just as sweetly as in our beloved
America, and the same stillness reigned throughout the town. It was like
a home Sabbath. What a change in forty-three years! We went to the
mission-church in the morning. It is a large stone edifice of block
coral, one hundred and forty-four feet long and seventy-eight wide, and
was one of the first objects we saw after passing Diamond Head. It was
commenced in 1838, and was five years in building, at a cost of about
thirty thousand dollars. Just think of people, who, only twenty-five
years before, were in the depths of heathen darkness, building such a
church, and by voluntary contributions too! They had a public meeting,
and the king subscribed three thousand dollars, and others gave their
pledges until the sum reached six thousand dollars. We should think that
doing very well in one of our own enlightened Christian assemblies.
Notwithstanding their poverty, they subscribed willingly. We, with all
our conveniences for building, can hardly realize the labor bestowed on
that church. The timber had to be cut in the mountain forests, and
dragged by hand down to the coast. The stone was dug out of the coral
reefs, and a quantity of coral had to be gathered and burned for lime.
All this the people did willingly, and without pay, and the carpenters
and masons gave their work freely. It was done unto the Lord.

In that church, which will doubtless stand for ages, we met a large body
of natives. Grandpa made a speech to them which Rev. Mr. Clark
interpreted. The church was very full. The natives are fond of bright
colors, and dress in red and yellow a great deal. The women's dresses
are made just like yoke night-gowns, falling to the feet without being
confined at the waist at all. The men often wear their shirts outside of
their pantaloons like a sack, and sometimes a coat is put on above that,
making the effect rather ludicrous. Bonnets the women wear of all kinds,
but principally small ones of very old styles. These were perched on the
very top of the head, and were sometimes trimmed with ribbons of five or
six colors. In the afternoon we went to church again. The preacher was a
blind native, Pohaku, and he preached so easily, naming the hymn and
repeating it just as if he was reading it, that one would never imagine
he was blind.

We shook hands with four or five hundred natives that day, saying
"aloha," which means "love to you," "good-will," and is their common
salutation. They crowded around us, and sometimes two would get hold of
my hand at once. A hand would come over a shoulder, another under an
elbow, and round unheard-of corners, all expressing joy and friendship.

But we must hear the rest of Honolulu to-morrow.




VII.

Honolulu continued.


The first great event of the week was a dinner-party at Mr. Wyllie's,
the minister of foreign affairs. He is a Scotchman, and wore his
official badges: a broad blue band crossing his vest, with the royal
coat of arms fastening it together on the hip just below the waist of
his dress-coat; also a star on his breast, and two long streamers of
crape hanging from his left arm in memory of the young Prince of Hawaii
who died last year.

At either end of the dining-hall hung three banners from a
standard,--his Scottish manorial flags, I presume; they gave a showy
look to the room. On the center of the table was a magnificent standard
of silver with a lovely bouquet of flowers. When the dessert was brought
in, this was replaced by a branching standard filled with fruit, more
elegant still. After the dessert, came a rich and chaste drinking-bowl
of silver lined with gold, from which each was desired to sip a little
wine to the health of Lady Franklin, who had once been his guest, and
who presented him the cup.

In the evening, about a dozen young people took a moonlight walk up
Punchbowl, the extinct volcano just back of Honolulu. It is apparently a
round cone, about five or six hundred feet high. The side we ascended
was steep, ragged, and rocky; but the view of Honolulu from that
elevation is very fine. The taro patches were of a deep green, the coral
reefs in the harbor snowy white. The town with its thatched houses lay
quiet beneath us, while old Diamond Head loomed up in solitary and
barren grandeur in the distance. We had some fine singing from members
of the party, and the air was so clear and the night so still that it
was heard at a long distance.

"_Taro patches_, aunty? What are they?"

Taro is a vegetable somewhat resembling the calla-lily, the roots of
which are good for food.

There are two kinds of it,--wet and dry. The wet is grown under water.
Square beds are made, two or more feet deep, in which the taro is
planted; then the water is let in at one end, and flows out of the
other, thus keeping running water upon the bed all the time. It requires
about a year for the plant to get its growth. The natives bake the root
in their stone ovens, which are large holes in the ground. They place at
the bottom of the oven a quantity of wood and over it a heap of stones,
which are heated thoroughly by the burning wood; then the pig, chicken,
potatoes, or whatever else they wish to cook, are laid on the stones,
leaves being wrapped around them to keep them clean, a little water is
thrown on, and the whole is covered with earth. The water comes
gradually in contact with the stones, and is converted into steam,
which, with the heat of the stones, in a few hours cooks the food.

After the taro is baked, they peel it with a shell, and pound it with a
stone pestle in wooden trays, mixing with it water; then they set it
away to ferment. When ready for use, it has a sort of lavender color,
and is acid. They call it _poi_; it tastes like yeast or sour flour
paste, and is eaten with coarse salt. The natives eat with it raw fish.
This is the favorite Hawaiian dish.

"_Raw_ fish, aunty?" said Carrie.

Yes, raw fish; they say raw fish tastes much better than cooked; but I
could not believe it. Yet we eat raw oysters; perhaps that is no worse.
Taro-tops are very good greens. The natives usually sit round a large
calabash, and dip one, two, or three fingers, according to the
consistency of the _poi_; then by a peculiar movement they take it from
the calabash, and convey it to the mouth. That is their favorite mode of
eating, and they say it does not taste so well when eaten with a spoon.

Next morning, some native women called on us. There were about twenty of
them. They were cordial and kind, and their "aloha" was very hearty as
we shook hands with each. Some were fine-looking, tall and portly. A few
could talk English a little. They welcomed grandpa, making a short
speech in Hawaiian, and presented us with some fowls, onions, cabbages,
potatoes, eggs, squashes, and taro. Grandpa thanked them, and spoke of
the interest he and Christians in America had always felt in them. Mr.
Clark was interpreter, and their faces lighted up with evident joy.

The following day we called on Prince William Lunalilo, and his father
Kanaina. Prince William is one of the highest chiefs in the kingdom, the
rank here being determined by the mother. In the reception-room was a
beautiful table, inlaid with specimens of native woods. The furniture
was covered with red plush. On the walls were oil paintings of the
prince and his father and mother, taken about fifteen years ago.

Prince William took us to the royal cemetery, a small square stone
building in the spacious yard. In the center of the one room on a table,
was a crimson velvet cushion trimmed with gold fringe, on which lay the
Hawaiian crown. Unfortunately, I did not notice it particularly. On
either side were enormous coffins, that of Kamehameha II. being the
handsomest, and covered with a pall of green brocaded silk; others were
covered also with silk palls, or draped in black. Some of the coffins
were long and large, the high chiefs having been, as a general thing,
tall and stout. One could not help thinking that here was the end of
earthly grandeur; the monarch and his lowest subject must alike die.

We went to a prayer-meeting at Oahu College, Punahou, on Wednesday
night. It was a pleasant thing to meet with twenty or thirty missionary
children for prayer and praise.

Thursday morning we listened to some very creditable recitations, and
examined some beautiful drawings by the young ladies and gentlemen, and
after lunch heard compositions, and saw the ladies practice
calisthenics; all of which would have done honor to one of our home
institutions. In the afternoon, we drove back to Honolulu, and attended
a sewing-circle at the house of one of the foreign residents. It really
seemed like one of our home circles, the profusion of exquisite flowers
and the absence of our cold March weather only dispelling the illusion.
We reveled in the lovely roses, our green-house favorites blooming here
with such rank luxuriance. I saw here for the first time in my life a
_green_ rose.

"Green rose?" asked little Alice. "I never heard of such a thing."

Yes, a veritable green rose of just the same shape as the common rose,
only a deep genuine green. It had a very odd look. Many of our
green-house plants grow to be extremely large here, as there is no
chilling wind or snow to nip their growth.

That night our first letters came, two months after we left home. What
joy to hear from the dear ones, even though the letters were written
only a fortnight after our departure. It takes six weeks for letters to
go from New York to Honolulu.

Friday morning, her majesty the queen gave us a private reception; the
king was out of town. We were notified, the day before, that the queen
would be pleased to see us informally, and would send her carriage for
us. So at eleven o'clock a barouche was before the door, drawn by a span
of dark horses. A coachman and footman in a livery of green and gold
completed the establishment. When we arrived at the palace gates, the
guard opened them wide for us, and we passed on to the rear of the
palace where was the queen's own suite of rooms. On the steps we were
met by the minister of foreign affairs, who escorted us to a
reception-room, and a few minutes later to the drawing-room. There we
were met by the queen in a ladylike manner, she taking our hand, and
expressing pleasure at meeting us. She was in deep mourning for the
prince, her only son, who died last year. Her dress was black, trimmed
half-way up the skirt with a heavy fold of crape, headed by a
box-plaiting of the same. We here met the Princess Victoria, a sister of
the king. The queen gave to each of us a lithograph likeness of the late
King Kamehameha III. The chancellor of the kingdom, Chief Justice Allen
and his lady were present. We returned home in the queen's carriage.

In the afternoon, we had a very pleasant dinner-party at the chief
justice's. In the evening, I accepted an invitation to ride with a large
party of young people, all on horseback; there were seventeen couples,
composed entirely of foreigners, more than half of whom belonged to
mission families. You would be amused to see the native women ride like
the men, with a strip of bright calico wound round their waist and
limbs, falling off like a skirt on each side; the color is usually red,
or red and yellow, and they look decidedly gay, sitting so erect in the
saddle, and riding at full gallop.

On Sabbath morning we attended at Mr. Smith's church, a large square
hall, with a thatched roof. We sat in a wealthy native lady's pew. It
was painted a brilliant scarlet, and the cushion was covered with a
striped magenta-and-yellow calico. The one in front of us was painted an
intense green. Grandpa made an address during service, and afterward, to
the children of the Sabbath-school. Every seat was full, and the people
very attentive. There was an old native man, with only one arm, who
acted the part of sexton, and sometimes waked people up. I fancy there
would be fewer sleepers in American churches, if there was anybody to
perform a similar office. We shook hands with a great many natives after
service. They are very fond of this ceremony, and we were glad to give
them that expression of our good-will. Three of them, as they shook
hands, left a quarter of a dollar each in mine. I could not return them,
for that would give offense, and as I was unwilling to keep them, I put
them into the missionary-box.

To-morrow we will leave Honolulu.




VIII.

From Honolulu to Hilo.


"Come, aunty," said Willie, "we are all ready for our journey." So I
began.

       *       *       *       *       *

We rode down to the steamer Kilauea about four o'clock Monday afternoon.
A great crowd was on the wharf; among them many of our good friends to
see us off. Indeed, we could not feel that we were strangers in a
strange land. The sight of the steamer was a novel one; the deck was
covered with men, women, children, and dogs, with mats, calabashes, etc.
It is quite a fashion here to trim the hair with flowers, and to wear
them strung about the neck. Many of these people were so decorated, and
it made quite a lively scene, with their gay calico dresses. The women
generally have their hair divided into two long braids behind; these
they bring up on the top of the head with a round comb, and slip the
flowers in about the comb.

The queen and her suite came on board last. She was going to join the
king at their country-seat at Kailua, on Hawaii. A salute of twenty-one
guns was fired by Her Majesty's guard, who then formed in a line on the
wharf and gave three cheers. The royal company preferred to sleep on
deck, so that nearly all who occupied the saloon were foreigners.

To us Americans, it seemed a strange thing to have both gentlemen and
ladies occupy the same saloon at night, and it was rather embarrassing
to mount into an upper berth with half a dozen gentlemen looking on.
But we soon became accustomed to it, and learned not to be alarmed at
finding a Chinaman asleep on the transom below.

"What is a _transom_, aunty?" asked Harry.

A sort of cushioned bench, running along both sides of the saloon just
outside the under berths.

At half-past four in the morning, we reached Lahaina, Maui. The steamer
stopped here some hours; so Dr. Baldwin came off for us, and took us to
his house to breakfast. Many friends, new and old, called, and some
beautiful flowers were sent from Lahainaluna, about two miles distant,
where there is a seminary for native young men. After breakfast, a large
company of natives escorted us to the shore, carrying our shawls and
bags, seeming eager to do something for our comfort. I wanted to take a
photograph of grandpa, as he stood surrounded by natives, he looked so
much the picture of happy contentment.

On the steamer we tried our first cocoa-nuts. They are very different
from those we get at home, the meat not being half so thick, and quite
soft. There is more than as much again liquid, and it is sweeter, and
colorless like water.

A few hours' sail brought us to Kalepolepo. Rev. Mr. Alexander had
ridden over from Wailuku, ten miles distant, and came on board, and
stayed with us some hours while the steamer took on board a supply of
wood. It was good to see his beaming face, and receive his cordial
welcome. He gave me a lesson in Hawaiian.

"What was it, aunty?" asked Willie.

One sentence was, "He olu olu anei oe?" Are you well? You would say
perhaps, "Aole au i ike." I don't understand.

"How funny!" said little Alice.

The next morning, just before we reached Kailua, we discovered the
king's barge, and in a few minutes he himself came on board with some
of his attendants. The meeting between himself and his queen was
affecting; she, not having been to their country-seat since the death of
the young prince, was quite overcome. His Majesty was dressed in a light
mixed suit, with drab buskins buttoned to the knee, white boots, and a
drab felt hat, with about two inches of crape on it. His buskins,
setting off his fine form, gave him a very noble appearance. Indeed, he
seemed to feel himself every inch a king. After the queen had become
somewhat composed, he came to where we sat and, with a hearty shake of
the hand, welcomed us to his country. He spoke of his visit to America,
some years ago, and conversed very agreeably for some little time. At
leaving us, both he and the queen again shook hands, with the same
pleasant manner.

At noon we arrived in Kealakekua Bay, on the west side of Hawaii, where
Captain Cook was killed. Rev. Mr. Paris was on the beach, with horses
to take us to his house, about two miles distant. As the steamer was to
remain till night, we went. Our landing was almost on the very spot
where Cook was killed. Grandma and I donned our riding-skirts, mounted
our horses and started on our ride. Such hills and roads, so dusty and
steep, never before entered my imagination! It was the first time
grandma had been on a horse for forty years. Sometimes we were a little
afraid; but as our horses were not, we gathered courage. At times a
precipice rose above us three or four hundred feet on one side, and on
the other descended perhaps a hundred feet. The rock was of lava, much
broken, sometimes looking like the waves of the sea, or like a stream
rolling over the precipice. A portion of the road was cut out of the
side of the rock. Mrs. Paris's cordial greeting repaid us for our hot
and dusty ride. Here, for the first time, I saw orange-trees in full
bloom. They were large and elegant trees, with blossoms and green and
ripe fruit growing at the same time. How we enjoyed the fruit, luscious
and juicy, and so refreshing after our ride! The arbutulum grows here
like a large tree, and blossoms profusely. In the garden we saw young
pine-apples, green mangoes, and Chinese oranges,--a perfect orange in
miniature, but acid as a lemon.

Toward sunset, we returned to the ship. Darkness covered us before
reaching the shore; but our sure-footed horses took us down without a
mishap. At the head of the bay rises a pali, or precipice, six or seven
hundred feet high, and it is said to go down perpendicularly into the
water perhaps as much more.

[Illustration: VALLEY OF WAIPIO.--Page 83.]

On Thursday, we sailed all day along grand precipices rising from the
ocean, some of them seven hundred or a thousand feet high, with
waterfalls leaping the whole distance, or broken into smaller cascades.
Sometimes the streams seemed like a silver ribbon, bordered with green
moss; these steeps being generally covered with verdure. Here and there
was a deep gorge or gulch, as they are there called. The first and only
valley of importance we saw was Waipio, whose sides rose exceedingly
grand and beautiful, with zigzag mule-paths up the slopes. Far in the
distance, amid its shadows, fell a ribbon-like cascade, said to be two
thousand four hundred feet high; behind it lay mountains with their
summits resting in the clouds. A village with its pretty church nestled
in a grove of cocoa-nuts on the beach. After this the precipices grew
lower and lower, until finally the scene changed to undulating hills,
and a rain storm notified us that we were approaching Hilo. We reached
that place about ten o'clock at night, and landed through the surf;
that is, the little boat stopped about fifty feet from the shore, and a
man waded out and took grandma in his arms; but there being a little
delay in getting ashore, the wave rolled in upon her and gave her quite
a wetting. When the man came back, and said, "Come, come," I started
immediately. The surf roared in the darkness, and I was afraid, but was
very soon set down safely on the shore. Dr. Wetmore met us on the beach,
and escorted us in the rain to Mrs. Coan's house. Mr. Coan was away upon
a tour; but they sent a messenger after him, and he returned home on
Saturday.

Hilo is celebrated for its heavy rains, and I should think also for its
gigantic spiders. I was afraid of them, though it is said they are
harmless unless molested.

Sabbath we passed in the usual manner. Grandpa addressed the native
congregation in the morning, and told them of his visit to the Holy
Land. They seemed delighted to see one who had looked upon Jerusalem,
and walked by the shores of Gennesaret.

There is the supper-bell; so we must wait until to-morrow for another
story.




IX.

The Volcano.


"Now, aunty, what are we to see to-day, and where are we to go?" asked
Willie, as we assembled in the sitting-room.

We'll go to the volcano to-day, Willie, I answered.

       *       *       *       *       *

Tuesday morning, we started on our first real horseback journey. The
party numbered seven,--three elderly people and four younger ones. Two
of our friends escorted us a few miles on our way, and then, as it began
to rain, they turned back. I could think of nothing but a party of
gipsies, as we rode out of Mr. Coan's yard. You would have laughed to
see our fitting out. Grandpa had on rubber overalls, a long rubber coat,
and a drab felt hat tied upon his head. I doubt if you would have known
him. Grandma wore a dark riding-skirt, an oil-cloth cape over her
shoulders, and a felt hat, decidedly slouchy, trimmed with green ribbon.
I had on an old drab skirt, my water-proof cloak, and a venerable straw
hat trimmed with green, with a blue barege veil falling from its brim.
The rest were dressed in similar style. We rode in single file, and the
road was so bad, if road it could be called, that we advanced barely two
miles an hour. Every few minutes we had to go up or down some steep
place, or through mud nearly a foot deep. Swamps and streams alternated
with our short hills. At length we came to a wood of tropical
luxuriance, where the road was just a mule-path, the branches often
meeting before our faces, so that we had to raise our hands to part
them. It rained as it always does here. While we young people were
venturing on a short canter, my saddle turned completely, and I landed
on my feet in an oozy place, fortunately unhurt. A few miles short of
the half-way house,--miles are not measured by feelings there,--my horse
gave out. For some time he had walked lame in all his feet, and at last
refused to go at all. One of the young gentlemen lent me his horse, and
led mine. We reached the half-way house about five o'clock, wet through.
This was a native house, the occupants of which at once turned out, bag
and baggage, the latter consisting, however, of only a few calabashes
and pillows, and removed into a smaller hut. We found our house neatly
laid with mats, and looking comparatively inviting. The firebrands had
been carried out, leaving only the coals in the center of the floor,
surrounded by stones to protect the matting. The house was of thatched
sides and altogether looked very much like the native houses we saw on
the Isthmus.

We made a temporary curtain of a blanket, put on dry clothes, hanging
our wet ones up to dry; then laid a table-cloth on the matting, and from
buckets and calabashes brought out our dinner. Our service was of tin;
but we made a hearty meal, sitting Turk fashion on the mat. After our
dinner and tea together, the natives came in, and we had prayers. Mr.
Coan read a few verses in English and then in the native language, which
was followed by two prayers, one in English, the other in Hawaiian, by
the head of the family. We then lay down to sleep; but cockroaches,
fleas, and a strong cup of tea drove slumber from our eyelids, and there
was more sighing than sleep. The men who brought our calabashes walked
or dog-trotted it all the way barefooted, and got on faster than we did.
The calabashes are fastened one at each end of a pole four or five feet
long, and the bearers don't seem to mind the weight, balancing them
easily on their shoulders and carrying them safely. We never missed the
smallest article, and nothing was injured by jarring.

We mounted our horses the next morning with good courage, though it was
dubious weather, and we had a long ride before us. After a while, we
young folks headed the procession and cantered when we could, which was
seldom, as a great deal of the way was like riding in the bed of a
brook. It had rained so much that a puddle of water was met every few
feet. Part of our way was through a beautiful growth of gigantic ferns,
mingled with other trees. The ferns were of a beautiful species, growing
twenty or more feet high, and crowned with waving feathery branches.
Other trees had their bark almost hidden by velvety moss or tiny ferns.

We arrived at the volcano house wet and tired, about three o'clock, but
were much comforted by the cleanly appearance of the house, so nicely
matted were the floors, with a raised place for sleeping. Outside, under
a roof like a veranda, was a blazing fire, and it was needed for drying
our clothes, and sending warmth through our chilled limbs.

We ladies retired behind our curtain, and soon appeared in complete
Bloomer costume. We set our table in more civilized style, having a
rough board whereon to lay our cloth, while benches saved the necessity
of our sitting again in Turk fashion. We rested better than the previous
night, rousing ourselves once in a while from our lowly matted couch to
gaze through the mist at the light from the crater, which looked like an
enormous fire.

About nine the next morning, we took our winding way to the edge of the
bluff, commanding a fine view of the crater; and there it lay before
us, a huge, blackened, fire-desolated gulf! Steam issued from fissures
in various parts, while a dense rolling volume marked the place of the
really burning lake: We ladies, in our Bloomer dresses,--for it isn't
safe to wear long skirts,--started down the precipice. At some of the
steep places, our gentlemen tied ropes to the shrubs, and, with jumping
and careful walking, we were soon down upon the lava floor.

"How did it feel to walk on the lava, aunty?" said Willie.

It seemed like walking on a snow-crust. Once in a while a foot would
sink through, and this at first alarmed us; but we soon got used to it.
There were many deep fissures in the lava, from some of which issued
steam; these we used to jump over.

"How wide were they?" asked Harry.

[Illustration: THE VOLCANO OF KILAUEA.--Page 92.]

One or two feet wide; and no one knows how deep. Mr. Coan seemed to
think that forty feet below us might be liquid lava. The lava had
flowed in countless shapes and ways. Sometimes it had hardened in
circles, or parts of a circle, or it was all crumbled and broken. This
last they call a-a [ah-ah]. Often a piece of the thin crust cracked
under our footsteps, and turning it over, there would be upon the under
surface all the colors of the rainbow.

After a walk of two and a half miles, we came to what is called the
"blow hole," where steam rushes out with great force and a loud report,
like many factory pipes. It seemed as if some angry goddess dwelt below,
whom we had insulted by coming into her domains, and that she was
belching out her fierce anger, and vowing vengeance.

But the final wonder was when the fiery gulf came into view. It must
have been half a mile square, and was about fifty feet below the level
of where we stood. It was boiling up all over its lead-colored surface.
Toward the center, it would blacken over, and the blacker it grew, the
more intently we watched, until finally it rose in a huge dome thousands
of tons in weight, red and fiery, and fell as suddenly. It was so hot,
that we had to cover our faces or turn away. There were several red-hot
fountains in various parts of the lake, throwing up jets of lava. One
was near a shallow cave, from the edges of which, the lava hung in
beautiful flame-colored stalactites.

"What are _stalactites_?" asked little Alice.

An icicle is a stalactite of frozen water; these were of lava, shaped
just like large icicles.

All the while, the lake was boiling up in some places, and wrinkling and
folding over at the edges. It was a terrible and exciting sight. One of
the party would shout, "There, there, the boiler is going to throw up
now!" and as it rose into the air, a grand chorus of "_There_" would
announce the end of that discharge. It is impossible to describe to you
the grandeur of the scene. It is one of God's most wonderful works. We
felt weak and powerless before it.

We took our lunch on the shore of this fiery lake, and afterwards spent
an hour in gathering specimens of the different kinds of lava.

Not far from the lake is a peak of lava which is called the "Gothic
Cathedral" from its shape. Some of the party passed by a block looking
like a lion. There were huge fields of "a-a" where the lava was thrown
up into rough heaps, as if some one had tried to knead up blocks a foot
square, and given it up as a bad job. We walked nearly six miles in the
crater, going and coming, which will give you an idea of its size. It is
nine miles in circumference. Our young gentlemen we left behind, as they
had discovered a new cave where they could see many valuable specimens.
When we reached the house, we were wet and tired; for it rained while we
were in the crater, and we had to change our clothes. We ladies saw the
yellow sulphur beds in the distance, but were too weary to visit them.

During our absence, the native men had gathered a quantity of ohelo
berries, resembling cranberries, but tasting like blueberries, not so
sweet perhaps, but like them seedless; they were very nice with sugar,
so we added them to our bill of fare. Remind me of those berries
to-morrow, and I'll tell you a story about them.

Now for supper.




X.

A Story about Kapiolani.


As I entered the sitting-room, I was greeted by a chorus of voices
saying, "Aunty, the berries, you know!" So I began.

       *       *       *       *       *

A good while ago, when the missionaries first went to the Hawaiian
Islands, a princess lived there named Kapiolani, the daughter of
Keawemauhili. She was a portly person, as most in high rank were, having
an engaging countenance, a keen black eye, and black hair put up by a
comb. She dressed in a civilized fashion, and used chairs and tables.
Her husband's name was Naihe. In the year 1825, only five years after
the mission was commenced, Kapiolani was living at Kaawaloa. Many of her
countrymen still supposed that the volcano was the abode of a powerful
goddess, whose name was Pele. They were very superstitious, and
reverenced and feared to anger this goddess.

Kapiolani had become a Christian, and felt sorry for her poor people who
were still in the darkness of paganism, and determined to break the
spell that bound them. So she announced her intention to visit the
crater of Kilauea, and call upon the goddess to do her worst. Her
husband and many others endeavored to dissuade her, but she was not to
be moved from her purpose. She traveled, mostly on foot, over a rough
and desolate road, a distance of about a hundred miles.

As she drew near the volcano, she was met by one who claimed to be a
prophetess of Pele, and threatened her with the displeasure of the
goddess, should she come into her domains on this hostile errand. She
was told that she would certainly perish if she went to the crater.
Kapiolani disregarded the impostor, and went on. Those ohelo berries
which I spoke of in my last story were sacred to Pele, and no one dared
to eat them unless they had first offered some to the goddess. But
Kapiolani gathered and ate them. "She and her company of about eighty,"
said Mr. Bingham, "accompanied by a missionary, descended from the rim
of the crater to the black ledge. There, in full view of the terrific
panorama before them, she threw in the berries, and calmly addressed the
company thus: 'Jehovah is my God. He kindled these fires. I fear not
Pele. If I perish by the anger of Pele, then you may fear the power of
Pele; but if I trust in Jehovah, and he shall save me from the wrath of
Pele when I break through her tabus, then you must fear and serve the
Lord Jehovah. All the gods of Hawaii are vain. Great is the goodness of
Jehovah in sending missionaries to turn us from these vanities to the
living God and the way of righteousness!'" Then amid the horrid belching
and bellowing of the crater, they sung a hymn of praise, and prayed to
the God of heaven and earth.

Now wasn't it a grand, a noble thing for this woman, who had been
educated in the grossest idolatry, who had only heard of the true God
within a very few years, thus to come out and defy her nation's deity,
this Pele? Why, even we, brought up in the light and power of the
gospel, could not wonder that those benighted savages feared and
worshiped. We silently thanked God in our hearts, that we knew him as
our Creator and the Maker of this wonderful volcano, instead of a
wicked, revengeful heathen god.

"You spoke of Pele's _tabus_; what is a tabu, aunty?" said Carrie.

Anything forbidden by their law or customs was called "tabu."

Now we will go back to our journey. The day after we descended the
crater, we started for the half-way house on our return. It was a
dreary, rainy morning, but cleared up soon, though no sun was visible.
The roads were dryer, and we young people cantered off, leaving the more
staid portion of the party behind; and reached our resting-place two
hours or more before the others, and before our native men too. We were
hungry, but our calabashes of food were far behind us, so we fell to
decorating the house, in order to occupy our time. It was a simple
thatched hut, with no windows and only one door. We built an arch over
the doorway of two gigantic ferns, with a bouquet of red roses in the
center, and made thence a continuous wreath of ferns and red leaves to
the end of the house, and down to the ground each side. The bright red
leaves were brought us by the little kanaka [native] children. Inside,
opposite the door, we made another arch, and twined a wreath around the
center pole supporting the roof. Our native men, as they entered,
exclaimed "nani," handsome, or "maikai," good. And Mr. Coan's face, as
he came up the hill, smiled approval. It really had entirely transformed
the dingy hut into quite a fairy bower. All night, fleas and cockroaches
disputed with us for its possession, and we rose in the morning,
unrefreshed, to a day's ride in the rain. The road was worse than on the
day we first came over it. It had stormed incessantly, the streams were
swollen, the mud was deeper, and our horses stiff and weary, not to
mention ourselves as in the same predicament. At times it rained so hard
that our horses turned their backs to it, and refused to move, and there
we had to sit until the violence of the shower was over. We often waded
through streams up to the saddle-girth. Part of the way, the road was
made of the trunks of fern-trees laid crosswise, not more than two or
three feet broad. They were worn and broken, and in some places decayed
entirely away. We considered it, however, a good road, and cantered over
it, our sure-footed horses never once stumbling. Glad indeed, were we,
to see the white spire of the Hilo church, and more glad to reach Mr.
Coan's hospitable house, where hot baths and a good dinner in some
degree enlivened us. Grandma was tired, but a night and day's rest made
her quite herself again. We felt amply repaid for any amount of fatigue
or discomfort, by our view of the crater and burning lake. It was a
scene for a lifetime; no pen could describe it, no pencil portray it;
one must see it with one's own eyes, to appreciate its wonders. God
alone could create it; and his power only could say to this surging,
fiery torrent, "Thus far shalt thou come, and no farther."

March 24th, we took the steamer Kilauea. It rained as we sailed out of
the bay,--Byron's Bay as it is called. The surf rolls in here
terrifically, and beats upon the shore with an incessant booming sound.
The view of Hilo, as you enter the bay, is said to be very fine; but we
were so unfortunate as to come in, in the night, and to go out in a
rain-storm. The natives play in the surf a great deal. They have what is
called a surfboard perhaps four or five feet long. With this board, they
swim out perhaps a mile, and then lying on it, ride in on the top of the
surf-billows. I was sorry not to see this amusement; but the little
children, with their small boards, I often saw trying to imitate their
elders.

"Don't they ever get hurt, aunty?" asked little Alice.

Not often. The natives are perfectly at home in the water, and can swim
long distances. The women are about as good swimmers as the men.

Ah, the bell! the bell! we mustn't keep grandpa waiting.




XI.

Kau and Journey to Kaawaloa.


At half-past six in the morning, we landed in Kau,--that is grandpa and
I did; grandma went on in the steamer to Kealakekua Bay. Rev. Mr. Gulick
met us as we stepped on shore. Horses were in waiting, and we were soon
in the saddle ready for our seven miles' ride to Waiohinu. Mr. and Mrs.
Gulick have here a boarding-school for native girls. They had nine
pupils of various shades and sizes. Some of them seemed very bright and
intelligent, and were quick and handy about their work. Beside
their studies, they are beginning to learn to make their own
clothes and to do housework.

Sabbath morning we visited the Sabbath-school. As we entered, the
children were singing in Hawaiian the hymn, "I want to be an Angel," and
soon after "I have a Father in the Promised Land," both of them to the
familiar tunes the children sing with us. It quite carried me back in
association to our home Sabbath-schools. The Hawaiians love to sing, and
the children sing with all their hearts, just as our children do.

Grandpa gave them a short talk, and then we went into the church, and he
addressed the native congregation,--an intelligent and well-dressed body
of men and women. The Hawaiians as a race are excessively fond of
flowers. Some of the girls wore wreaths of rosebuds round their necks;
some had flowers in their hair, and others held a few in their hands.
The judge of the district, who had a little daughter in Mr. Gulick's
school, brought her a wand of roses, wreathed round a stick, which he
handed to her with a smile as she came into church.

In the afternoon, grandpa preached to the foreign residents. Every white
person but one in the district was present, making sixteen in all
including ourselves. There were only four ladies, most of the men having
native wives. The shoemaker, the blacksmith, the missionary, the
planter, all met in that little parlor, to hear a sermon in their native
tongue. It made no difference what was their religious belief; they came
dressed in their best, and some of them joined in singing the hymns, the
tunes doubtless familiar to them long ago, before they left their
father's roof.

Monday morning we started on our journey across the island, to where
grandma was staying. Our baggage was packed on a mule, and the
saddle-bags filled with our eatables.

"What are _saddle-bags_?" asked Willie.

They are two bags fastened on a broad strip of leather, made to fit on
the back part of a saddle, so arranged that a bag will hang on each side
of the horse, the two thus balancing each other.

Mr. Gulick accompanied us, and quite a number of natives traveled a part
of the way. We started in a rain; six or seven miles of the road were
good; the rest was bad enough to make up for it. The first half-day we
passed over that kind of lava called "a-a," the whole tract, as far as
the eye could reach, looking as if a mountain of lava had been thrown
thousands of feet in the air, and fallen, crumbled and broken, into
irregular ridges and heaps, blackened and barren. In riding, we passed
over an apology for a road, reminding me of our American roads when
filled in with broken stone before being covered with the gravel. Some
of the ridges were fearfully steep and jagged. Here it seemed as if--as
a friend remarked--"we were out of sight of land." Hardly a bush or tree
was to be seen. I never knew the meaning of desolation before. We grew
weary of the dull black scene, and it rained and rained, but we kept on,
up one steep place and down another. The last part of our day's ride was
through woods, over hard lava, which they call "pahoihoi;" but it was
along a mountain side, and the same steep ridges followed us. Darkness
came just as we neared the native village where we were to spend the
night. We had passed over a hard road of thirty-five miles, and been ten
hours in the saddle. We were, of course, not sorry to dismount, which we
did at the largest native house. The man of the house was down at the
sea-shore; the family were of course not expecting foreigners. In the
center of the house was a fire of glowing coals, and near it sat an old
woman stringing candle-nuts upon a cocoa-nut fiber, which were their
only lamps.

"What are _candle-nuts_?" asked the children.

They grow on a beautiful tree called "kukui," or candle-nut tree. The
nuts are about the size of a walnut, and are so oily as to burn quite
well.

Some one went over to the church, a simple thatched house like the rest,
and brought us the only two chairs the village possessed. We set out our
simple meal on the mat, and by twos and threes the natives dropped in to
see us, bringing children and babies; so that by the time our supper was
over, almost all the village were present to see the "houris" or
foreigners. After we had finished, we had family worship, Mr. Gulick
acting as interpreter. Then Mr. G. asked where we were to sleep. Our
landlord and his wife had one corner of the room, another man and his
wife another corner, our native men a third, and we the fourth.
Learning that our shawls were wet, the son brought out a large bed tapa
for our covering. Taking our bags for pillows, we lay down to
rest,--_sleep_, I can not say, for fleas and cockroaches were too
abundant to permit this.

"What is _tapa_, aunty?" asked Willie.

Tapa is their native cloth made from the bark of trees. They take the
inner part of the bark, I believe, and beat it with mallets of very hard
wood until it is soft and flexible, wetting the bark from time to time.
It looks like a kind of paper, rather than cloth. These cloths the
natives dye with various colors, in patterns to suit their own fancy.
The bed tapas are from three to five large sheets placed one above
another, and are very warm and comfortable.

Early next morning, we started on our journey through field and forest,
and reached Mr. Paris's house about half-past two, having accomplished
our journey of sixty miles in eighteen hours. We were cordially
welcomed by the family, and were glad indeed to be with grandma again.

We walked one evening to the house near by, where Kapiolani and her
husband Naihe lived. You remember Kapiolani was the brave princess I
told you of. It was a stone house, built of solid coral rocks, the walls
three feet thick, and is on an eminence commanding a fine view of the
sea. No one was now living in the house; but quite a number of little
kittens, wild as they could be, scampered in terror from room to room,
as we went through the apartments.

Next morning, Mr. Paris took us out to ride. We visited a native church
about two miles from his house, a pretty stone building, nicely finished
off inside with koa wood, much resembling mahogany. The horse grandpa
rode was a handsome black fellow; mine was a large sorrel called
Bonaparte. Both horses had a decided aversion to going through puddles
of water. Bonaparte had been broken in by a native, who hurt him about
the head, after which, he had a great antipathy to natives; indeed, he
had a dislike to any strangers. After a time, he got to know me; but if
a native tried to touch him, he became almost frantic. He was a very
easy horse for riding, and I became quite fond of him, and used to feed
and give him water. One day we were all out riding, and as we came
toward the house, I galloped into the yard and dismounted on the stone
wall, which we used as a horse-block. They called to me that they were
going on, so, as I had the bridle in my hand, I prepared to mount, when
a good native deacon came forward to help me. The horse's nostrils
dilated, and he plunged about almost drawing me off the wall, and was
the perfect image of anger. I succeeded in making the good man
understand that he must go away, then talked soothingly to the horse,
patted his head gently, and finally, as he came near enough, threw
myself into the saddle, and had a good ride. Now you see, children, what
kindness can do. If I had ever been rough with the horse, or unkind to
him, he would not have had such confidence in me, and I could not have
soothed him down, and so should have lost my ride.




XII.

Kaawaloa.


My little flock of listeners were sure to get their work done punctually
by four o'clock, thus fulfilling their part of the bargain, and used
laughingly to talk about their travels, making believe that they were
journeying, as I told them what I saw and had passed through.

       *       *       *       *       *

On Saturday, April 4, Mr. Paris, grandpa, and I, started off on a long
ride, to visit Hoonaunau, the city of refuge, a place to which people
could flee, if they had committed any crime, or displeased any chief,
and be protected by the priests. This was in old pagan times; they are
not used for that purpose now.

"Aunty," asked Carrie, "didn't they have such cities in Old Testament
times?"

Yes, dear, they did. You may get your Bible and turn to Numbers xxxv:
vi. and read the passage to us.

"And among the cities which ye shall give unto the Levites, there shall
be six cities for refuge, which ye shall appoint for the man-slayer,
that he may flee thither."

It seems singular that this heathen people should have a custom like
that sanctioned by God through Moses in the Old Testament days; but so
it was. This city of refuge was a "heiau," or heathen temple. It has a
massive stone wall varying from six to ten feet in hight, and as many
feet in thickness, inclosing a large space of ground, and having, of
course, no roof. The sea washes its base on one side. Here we saw a
rock, under which Kaahumanu, the favorite wife of the great conqueror
Kamehameha I., is said to have hid herself when her royal husband was
angry with her. It is called by her name.

"Did the king have more than one wife?" asked Harry.

Yes, almost every chief had several, if he could afford it. But now that
they are a Christianized people it is different.

We stood on the altar where human sacrifices had been offered. It was
hard to believe that such a quiet place was ever used for so dreadful a
purpose.

We saw a flat rock, on which one of the great chiefs was said to have
rested while his subjects were fishing. The native story is, that the
chief was so tall that his feet hung over one end, and his head the
other. The stone was fourteen feet long!

"Aunty," said little Alice, "it wasn't a true story; was it?"

No, Alice; but probably he was a very tall man.

We passed over the battle-field of Kaei, the scene of the last great
fight on Hawaii, which placed the island under the rule of Kamehameha
II.

About half a mile beyond the City of Refuge is a high bluff, over which
are solid lava falls, looking just like a waterfall, only black. They
are hundreds of feet broad and more than a hundred feet high. You can
walk between the bluff and the fall, and look up a hundred feet. We went
into a cave, which is an eighth of a mile deep, leading to the sea. It
probably was once a channel through which a lava stream flowed into the
ocean.

Coming back we rode into the village of Kealakekua, and went to the spot
where Captain Cook was worshiped, and had sacrifices offered to him.
Just think how wicked it was in him to allow those poor ignorant
natives to believe he was a god, and to receive offerings and sacrifices
as such! It must have been very displeasing in the sight of God to have
a man brought up in a Christian land do such a thing. It was only a
little while after, across the bay in sight of that very place, that he
lost his life. We saw two cocoa-nut trees with their trunks perforated
by cannon-balls which were fired from Cook's ship.

The next day we attended the native church at Kealakekua, and saw their
manner of collecting monthly concert money. One or two deacons, or
"lunas" as they call them, sit at a table in front of the pulpit, and
the people bring up their gifts. Three old men had no money, and
brought, respectively, a broom, some dried fish, and two fowls. The
fowls amused me very much. They had their feet tied together, and
occasionally fluttered their wings and clucked during the sermon. One
of the hens, I have since learned, was of Japanese breed. All her
feathers curled up the wrong way, making her look as if she had been out
in a gale of wind.

Monday we rode down to Kaawaloa, stood on the rock where Cook fell,
gathered some coral where his boat rested, and walked over the stones
where he led the king when endeavoring to take him as a hostage.

"What did they want him for?" asked Harry.

The natives had stolen a boat from Captain Cook, and the latter was
taking their king to the ship to keep him there until the boat should be
brought back. The natives could not bring the boat back, because they
had already broken it up to get the iron in it; and they were not
willing their king should be taken away. So one of the chiefs seized
Cook roughly by the shoulder, and held him so painfully that he cried
out. The people said, "Can a god groan? Is a god afraid?" Their belief
that he was a god was broken, and he was immediately killed. We went
into the king's house, which is still standing, and saw some beautiful
matting lining the walls, taking the place of our house paper. It was
woven in figures. We sat down on a board, and drank some young cocoa-nut
milk from trees which existed in Captain Cook's time, and now shade the
spot. Near the shore is a dead trunk of a tree about three feet high, on
which several plates of copper, inscribed to the memory of Captain Cook,
have been nailed by officers of British men-of-war. Not a very sumptuous
monument this! On one side of the road, about half a mile above the
beach, is a pillar of wood erected on a heap of rough lava. On this is a
small plate, bearing this inscription:--

In Memory
OF
CAPTAIN JAMES COOK, R. N.,
WHO DISCOVERED THESE ISLANDS,
IN
THE YEAR OF OUR LORD
1778,
THIS HUMBLE MONUMENT IS ERECTED BY
HIS FELLOW COUNTRYMEN, IN
THE YEAR OF OUR LORD
1825.

Captain Cook named the group of islands from his patron, the Earl of
Sandwich. The natives always call them Hawaiian Islands, or as they say,
"Hawaii Nei!"

This portion of Hawaii is the orange district, and we had delicious
oranges every day. It seemed sometimes as if the fruit, after peeling,
would drop to pieces in our hands, from very juiciness.

"Oh, how I wish I had some!" said Harry.

This is a bread-fruit country too. We didn't learn to love that fruit.
We sometimes had it baked for dinner. I think it is never eaten
uncooked. The tree is fine-looking; its leaves are large, and of a very
brilliant green. The fruit is round, has a rough outside, and to me
seemed rather mealy and tasteless.

"How large is it?" asked Carrie.

About the size of a cantelope-melon.

We tasted here, too, the root of the ti [te] plant. It was baked, and
when sent in it was still hot. It looked like brown-bread, only finer
grained, and when shaved off in slices had a very sweet and not
unpleasant taste. Many of the natives are quite fond of it. The plant
has a small trunk four or five feet high, surmounted with a tuft of
leaves resembling corn-leaves. In various parts of the islands, when
there is a scarcity of food, the natives eat the root of the fern-tree,
baked. It reminded me in appearance of tobacco, was tasteless, and
uninviting in its looks; but I saw native men cut off great slices of
it, which they ate as if they liked it. But as I told you before, their
favorite food is poi, and, with a good supply of that and raw fish, a
native is as happy as a plenty of good food can make him.

We saw here for the first time enormous cockroaches. They came out after
a rain, and were very annoying, as all large bugs are that can fly or
run fast. One night I killed seven in my room. If I left one dead on the
floor overnight, in the morning it would be surrounded by hundreds of
small brown ants. It was really very interesting to watch the little
creatures. They would saw off a leg, or a part of one, then several of
them would drag it away to their hiding-place; and, piecemeal, they
would, if given time, carry off the cockroach, leaving not a particle.
Now there is a lesson for you, children.

Perhaps you have something to do. It may seem like a mountain, as you
look at it; but if you work diligently, doing perhaps only a little at
a time, it will grow less and less until it is all done; and as you look
back upon it, you will be astonished to think how easily you have done
it.




XIII.

Kailua.


"Aunty," said Carrie, as I came into the room, at four o'clock the next
day, "we have been calling ourselves little ants all day to-day, we have
been so busy; but now we have finished our work, and are all ready." So
I resumed my story.

       *       *       *       *       *

On Saturday, April 11, we left Kaawaloa, after a very pleasant visit of
two weeks, starting about nine o'clock on our twelve miles' ride to
Kailua. Mr. Paris's family and grandma were in a carriage, which some
friends had given Mrs. P., and grandpa and I were on horseback. I had
my horse Bonaparte. The road was good most of the way; no carriage had
ever traveled the whole length of it before. Part of the way was down
the mountain, and when about half-way to the foot, a part of the
carriage broke. We all dismounted and took a lunch, then, with some
leather, Mr. Paris bound up the broken place firmly, and we went on our
way rejoicing that no worse thing had befallen us; for we were far away
from any house, and had still half of our journey to perform, and this
being the only carriage on that part of the island, no native knew how
to repair it. On reaching the sea-shore, we passed through a grove of
cocoa-nut trees. Here we drank some delicious cocoa-nut milk, and quite
a group of natives gathered about us, and shook hands. The Hawaiians as
a race are very fond of shaking hands. As the shake of the hand, saying
"aloha," love to you, was often our only mode of expressing our
interest, we were very particular to do it.

[Illustration: CATHEDRAL OF KILAUEA.--Page 95.]

[Illustration: PAHOIHOI.--Page 129.]

After leaving the grove, the path lay between two stone walls, so near
together that it seemed impossible for the carriage to go through. Our
native friends said among themselves "_pilikia!_" trouble; for there was
no other road for the carriage. But the carriage did pass, the wheels
just grazing the stones. How glad we were, and the natives exclaimed,
"_maikai!_" good.

We saw a great deal of rough hard lava, called "pahoihoi," and prickly
pear-trees grew in abundance. They were large, ugly plants. Grandma gave
me one of their flowers which looks like a cactus-blossom. I had on a
heavy buckskin glove, and this was filled with small barbed thorns,
which, before I knew it, had worked through into my hand, as I held the
rein. They caused no little pain, but were so small and colorless that
you could not see them. In some places the people use the prickly pear
as hedges, which are unsightly but very strong. We often saw the
century-plant while on the islands, which, it has been said, blooms only
once in one hundred years; but in fact it blossoms at least once in
twenty-five years. The stalk of the flower grows very rapidly. Some of
these stalks are twenty or thirty feet high. I examined one which seemed
to be casting its blossoms; they looked like small bulbs just sprouting.
If these are planted, they will grow, and this is the way the plant is
propagated.

We were amused at the excitement of many of the natives about the
carriage. A great number of them had never seen one before. Whole
families turned out, men, women, and children, just as people in our own
land once did to see a railroad car, or as they do now to see a caravan
with elephants and camels. Horses and mules all along the road became
unmanageable. They would turn and look, with dilated nostrils and head
erect, while trembling in every limb, till the carriage almost reached
them, then they would break from their fastenings and gallop off,
neighing with fear. Then they would turn and look till we nearly reached
them again, when they darted away as before.

We reached the house of Mr. Thurston, at Kailua, about three o'clock in
the afternoon. It had a very desolate look, for it had been locked up
for a year. The venerable missionaries were then in California, on
account of the failure of Mr. T.'s health. There was no white face to
greet us, as at the other mission-stations, so we made ourselves as
comfortable as possible. Several natives called to see us, and a
venerable deacon sent us two fowls, some very fine watermelons, and
sweet potatoes. The melons were delicious, the soil of this part of the
islands being well adapted to them. Watermelons are even sent to the
San Francisco market.

The next day was Sabbath, the 12th of April, the forty-third anniversary
of the missionaries first landing on these islands, which occurred on
this very spot. We were interested in the fact that we should happen to
be there at that time.

We went to the stone church, a venerable edifice built in the old
style,--the pulpit and galleries being very high. Perhaps a thousand
natives were present, and they paid remarkable attention to all that was
said. After service, we shook hands with a large portion of the
audience. Most of the people came on horseback, and there must have been
as many as five hundred horses tied outside the church.

It was too far for us to go home before the afternoon service; so we
spent the time in visiting the graves of mission families near the
church. In the afternoon we partook of the communion with the
congregation. Every thing was conducted with great propriety. A native
evangelist has had the care of this church since Mr. T. left, and they
have well sustained their church and prayer-meetings, with very little
outside aid from missionaries.

We expected the steamer to call for us at any time after midnight, and
so slept with one eye and one ear open. About twenty asses were in a
pasture near us, and were braying all night long. We had little
refreshing sleep, and were glad to see the smoke of the Kilauea as she
came round a point in the distance at six o'clock in the morning. We
wended our way to the beach, and amused ourselves by watching little
native children playing in the water, and by picking up shells, until
the boat came to take us on board the steamer, when we bade our friends
good-by. As there was no wharf, a native took us up one by one and
carried us to the boat. It seemed so funny at first for us grown people
to be taken up like children; but we got accustomed to it, the men
lifting us easily, and placing us in the boat as dry and comfortable as
possible. By three o'clock in the afternoon we were off Honoipu, where
we were to disembark. This is the landing for Kohala. Mr. Bond met us,
and a kind German was there with his wagon to take grandma and the
baggage to Mr. B.'s house. The rest of us went on horseback. Before
grandpa mounted his horse, the natives gathered about him, and asked by
an interpreter how old he was. They said, "his face and his form was
young, but his hair was old." They expected to see an old decrepit man,
and were quite surprised to find him so fresh and vigorous. We started
on a brisk canter over a good road. My horse was unfortunate in his
disposition, and would sometimes run across the road to kick another.

"Why, aunty, what did he do that for?" asked Harry.

Perhaps he had the same feeling that a little boy has, when he races
with another boy. The latter runs a little faster perhaps, and the boy
that is behind tries to hinder or tease him in some way, so that he may
lose the race. I suppose my horse didn't want the other to pass him, and
so tried to kick him.

The trade-wind swept across that part of the island with great force. It
really seemed as if we would be blown off our horses, and I was glad
that my hat-strings were sewed on tightly. After a while, a sudden
shower came up, lasting about five minutes; but the wind soon dried us.
Another and heavier one making its appearance in the distance, we turned
off the road to go a shorter way. Mr. Bond was mounted on a large white
mule; as we were galloping hastily along over the grassy field, his
mule stumbled, and over they went. All we could see was the mule's four
feet in the air. Fortunately, Mr. Bond was not under the animal, as we
feared, but rose from the soft grass a few feet ahead uninjured. The
shower came steadily on, and we were obliged to take refuge in a native
hut. The natives ran out, took off our saddles, and tied our horses for
us, so that we might escape the shower. They were always ready to do a
kind act for us. As I sat in the hut with two women and a pretty little
native girl about three years old, I longed to be able to talk with them
in their own language; but after each of us had said "aloha," we could
only sit and look at each other.

Grandma and Mrs. Bond with her children were waiting on the piazza to
meet us as we rode up. But there is the tea-bell, so we must wait until
to-morrow to hear about Kohala.




XIV.

Kohala and Waimea.


"We are ready to hear about that queer-named place now, aunty," said
Alice at my elbow as I sat writing in my room.

Oh, yes, about Kohala.

       *       *       *       *       *

Every thing at Mr. Bond's was the pink of neatness, and though we were
shut in by rain for five days, we enjoyed it. Sometimes, it would look
like clearing up, and we would walk in the garden; but usually we had to
hurry in to escape the rain.

The garden looked beautifully, with some rose-bushes twenty-five feet
in circumference, and scarlet geraniums perhaps fifteen feet. It does
one good just to look at them, after seeing only our little dwarf shrubs
at home. Kanoa and his wife, the good Hawaiian missionaries to
Micronesia, came with their little baby to bid us good-by.

We had mangoes for the first time at Mr. Bond's, which were delicious.
In shape they are like a pear, only flatter, with the large end growing
next the stem. I can not describe the taste, it is unlike any thing we
have. The seed is very large, being nearly two thirds the size of the
fruit. Fresh figs, too, we tried for the first time, and to our surprise
liked them. We had some papaias, which grow on trees; the fruit tastes
like a musk-melon, and pies made of them are very much like squash-pies.

Sabbath morning it cleared up about eleven, so that we could go to
church. Notwithstanding the weather, a goodly congregation assembled,
and listened to grandpa with great respect and attention. After meeting,
as usual, they all wanted to shake hands with us. As I was going down
the aisle, thinking I had shaken hands with all, I heard some one call
"keika mahine, keika mahine" [daughter, daughter], and looking round,
there was an old man standing up on a seat with his hand stretched out
to shake hands. Of course I must gratify him. Fortunately for us,
Monday, April 20, was a pleasant day, and we started about nine o'clock
for Waimea across the mountain. Grandma rode about twelve miles in Mr.
Christianson's wagon, and then as the wagon-road ended, she went the
remainder of the way on horseback. The rest of us were in the saddle all
the way. How the wind did blow! It seemed as if I should be carried out
of my saddle bodily; but we rode on over fields and barren wastes, and
through steep and rocky gulches. At noon we reached the house of a
foreigner, and were hospitably entertained. Mr. Lyons was waiting for us
there, and Mr. Bond left us. What was more to us than dinner, was a
feast of home letters, which Mr. Lyons had brought for us. After resting
an hour or more, we were all in our saddles again. As we were riding, on
the summit of a hill, or mountain as we should call it, a beautiful
scene opened before us. High above us the fleecy clouds parted, and we
caught a glimpse of what seemed like "the promised land." There stood
the peak of a lofty mountain covered with newly-fallen snow, shining
white and beautiful in the sun's clear beams. It seemed too high up, too
pure and fair in its framework of clouds, to belong to earth. This was
the summit of Mauna Kea, and we shall not soon forget that vision of
beauty. It seemed as if angels might flit over its snowy sides without
any danger of soiling their pure white garments. We arrived at Mr.
Lyons's about five, and were cordially met by Mrs. L. and her daughter.

On Wednesday, we attended a meeting at Mr. Lyons's church. The house was
filled with nicely-dressed natives. Grandpa and Mr. L. sat in front of
the pulpit. At the back of the church was a large choir of men and
women, who sung well and with animation, beating time with their hands.

Soon after we entered, they sung an original hymn by a native named
Lyana, which the choir sung to the tune of "Hendon."

    "Nani ke aloha la!
    Me ka olioli pu
    I ka malihini hou--
    E aloha, aloha oe.

    "Holo oia a maanei,
    Mai Amerika mai no,
    Eia no! ua komo mai--
    E aloha, aloha oe.

    "A, ma keia la maikai,
    Hui aloha pu kakou,
    Ma ka Luakini nei;
    E aloha, aloha oe.

    "E hauoli, oli pu,
    E na hoahanau a pau,
    Kane, wahine, keiki no,
    E aloha, aloha oe.

    "Na ia nei i hoouna mai
    I na misioneri nei,
    E ao mai ia kakou nei;
    E aloha, aloha oe.

    "E ala, oli kakou pu,
    A kokua aloha no
    Ka makua o kakou;--
    E aloha, aloha mau."

Mr. Bingham, one of the first missionaries to the islands, has given us
this translation:

    "Wonderful that love sincere!
    Great our joint rejoicings here,
    For the stranger guest we see;
    Cordial welcome, friend, to thee.

    "Sailing far to reach our homes,
    From America he comes;
    Lo! in peace he enters here;
    Welcome to our hearts sincere.

    "Now on this delightful day,
    We, in love, unite to pray:
    Here beneath our temple spire,
    We our welcome give thee, sire.

    "Jointly chanting, now rejoice;
    Brethren, all unite your voice;
    Husbands, wives, and little ones,
    Greet this friend with grateful tones.

    "This is he who hither sends
    These true missionary friends,
    To enlighten our dark mind;
    Thanks and love to one so kind.

    "Let us then all rise and sing,
    And our grateful succor bring;
    For our sire our love to prove,--
    Love, good-will, unceasing love."

Grandpa then made an address, and told them about the missions in
Western Asia. Then Kanoa, the missionary to Micronesia, made a prayer;
after which, he and his wife sung a Micronesian hymn. Grandpa told them,
in another short address, about the India missions. Mr. Lyons then arose
and spoke about his own mission, and introduced his senior deacon,
Timotao Nalanipo, who made a speech in Hawaiian. Mr. Lyons translated
it, and I will read you the translation.

"The church-members of the highlands of Waimea, the old men, the aged
women, the strong men, the youth and children tender, through me, their
salutation to you, the secretary, your companion, and daughter. Great,
indeed, is our joy in being permitted to see you, to welcome you to our
land. You have been sent by the learned Missionary Society of great
America, as its delegate, to see the works of the gospel heralds you
have sent to us.

"We, the ancient men of Kamehameha's time, were once idolaters,
murderers, guilty of infanticide, polygamy, and constantly quarreling
one with another. On the death of Kamehameha, the kingdom devolved on
his son Liholiho. He abolished idolatry, broke the tabus; men and women
for the first time ate together, and the temples and gods were burned to
ashes.

"Still we lived on in poverty and darkness, and in secret worship of
idols, and were without the knowledge of the living and true God. Men,
women, and children were promiscuously devoted to the most sordid
pleasures, heathenish dances, and revelries, day and night. In the year
1820, the missionaries, Mr. Bingham and company, came to these islands
to proclaim the blessed gospel to us, who knew not God, nor had heard of
the death of Jesus, the Messiah, the Saviour of the world. It was you,
the Missionary Society you represent, that loved us, and sent the good
missionaries to our dark land.

"The king and his premier allowed the missionaries to dwell with us to
introduce a new order of things; to teach us first the twelve letters of
the alphabet, then spelling, then reading and writing.

"During the forty-three years the missionaries have resided on the
islands, much seed has been sown, much labor performed, and wonderful
have been the results. We were once all dark, buried in darkness, sunk
to the lowest depths of ignorance, roaming about the fields and woods,
like wild beasts, without clothing, our naked bodies most shamefully
exposed and blackened by the sun, without books, without Bibles, without
Christianity, plunging into the darkness of hell. Now we are clothed,
like civilized beings; we are Christianized; we are gathered into
churches; we are intelligent; we are supplied with books, Bibles and
hymn-books; and are living for God and for heaven; and this through the
labors of the missionaries you have sent us.

"Our joy is inexpressible in seeing you; and we beg you to carry back to
your associates, to the Missionary Society, to all the American churches
connected with it, the warmest salutations of the churches of Waimea and
Hamakua."

This good old man has since died, and gone, doubtless, to be with his
Lord whom he so long loved and served.

At the close of the Hawaiian address, another original native hymn was
sung, composed by Samuela, and sung to the tune of "Farewell, farewell
is a lonely sound."

    "Auwe; auwe; aloha la
      Ka malihini hou
    Ma keia la hauoli nei
      Ua hui pu kakou.

    "Auwe; auwe; aloha la
      Ka malihini hou
    A eia la ua komo mai
      Ka luakini nei.

    "Auwe; auwe; aloha la
      Ka malihini hou
    A na ia nei i hoouna mai
      Na misionari nei.

    "Auwe; auwe; aloha la
      Ka ekalesia nei
    Kane, wahine, kamalii
      Kokua pu kakou.

    "Auwe; auwe; aloha la
      Ka makua a kakou
    Aloha a mahalo pu
      Ka malihini hou."

Mr. Lyons translated it for us:--

    "Oh! oh! we'll welcome you, sire,
      The stranger we now greet.
    This is a gladsome day, sire;
      For we together meet.

    "Oh! oh! we'll welcome you, sire,
      The stranger of whom we've heard;
    Lo! now with us you enter here,
      This temple of the Lord.

    "Oh! oh! we'll welcome you, sire,
      The stranger to our land;
    'Twas you who loved and sent to us
      The missionary band.

    "Oh! oh! we'll welcome you, sire,
      Say all the brethren here,
    Men, women, and the children, sire,
      Unite in love sincere.

    "Oh! oh! we'll welcome you, sire,
      Our father and our friend;
    Our best respects and wishes has
      This stranger to our land."

After this was sung, we shook hands with nearly all in the church. Many,
to our embarrassment, brought little tokens of good-will in money,
amounting in all to ten dollars. With this we bought Hawaiian Bibles to
be distributed among the people. Imagine a man, coming up to shake
hands, but stopping before he did it diving his hand into the pocket of
his pantaloons, taking out a quarter of a dollar and laying it on the
table, then shaking hands as if he had paid for it! They have, however,
none of that feeling.

The tea-bell! the tea-bell!




XV.

Maui.


Four o'clock came, and with it my little folks, all ready for a story.
So I commenced.

       *       *       *       *       *

We left Waimea on the morning of April 23, and rode on horseback to
Kowaihae, a distance of twelve miles; there we were to take the steamer
Kilauea.

On our way down to the shore we visited a heiau [hay-ow], or heathen
temple. It was built by Kamehameha I. at the time he was going over to
conquer Maui [Mow-e]. This was the last temple built on Hawaii. All the
inhabitants of the island, men and women, were commanded to come and
help build it, and none dared to stay away. It is about two hundred feet
square, twenty-five feet high, and as many feet thick, of solid stone,
just like a massive wall. Within we saw where the sacrifices were laid
overnight, and the pit where they were thrown in the morning,--a place
called by the natives hell.

"What were their sacrifices, aunty?" asked Willie.

Human beings,--generally lame or maimed persons. Before Kamehameha I.
left for the conquest of Maui, thirteen human sacrifices are said to
have been offered on this altar to insure him success.

After being hospitably entertained by a son of Judge Allen at Kowaihae,
we went on board the steamer about eight o'clock in the evening, and
soon Hawaii was left behind in the darkness. We had finished our tour of
that island, and saw it no more.

We had a rough night, and did not arrive at Kalepolepo, Maui, until
twelve o'clock. We went on shore in a high wind, and landed in a storm
of sand.

"A storm of _sand_, aunty! What do you mean?" asked Carrie.

Just what I say,--a storm of sand. The wind was so strong that the very
sand was blown up in our faces with such force as to make the skin
tingle.

Mr. Alexander met us, and we started in this same storm and high wind
for Wailuku, ten miles distant, where he resides. Even the gentlemen had
veils over their faces, and hats tied on with handkerchiefs. The air was
so thick with sand that we could hardly see, but we pushed bravely on.
We were all on horseback, our baggage coming on more slowly in an
ox-cart.

We had just got within sight of Mr. Alexander's house, having only a
ride of perhaps ten minutes before us, when, to our dismay, there came
a deluge of rain. My veil in a moment became like ground glass, the
water making it impossible for me to see through it. Of course I could
not guide my horse, but he followed the rest of the company; and glad
indeed were we to change our soaked garments for others kindly furnished
by the mission family, and thankful that our baggage did not arrive
until after the shower was over, so that it escaped getting wet.

The next day we had a visit from many native men and women, who brought
their gifts of eggs, onions, cabbages, fowls, and melons. They all
seemed so genuinely happy to see us that it was a pleasure to meet them.

On the Sabbath we attended church all day, with a well-dressed and
decorous congregation of Hawaiians. They had a melodeon and a very good
choir. Mr. Alexander told us that six of the choir could play on the
instrument, and they all take turns, one playing in the morning, another
in the afternoon. They hired a teacher to come over from Lahaina once or
twice a week. This they planned entirely among themselves, I believe.

Monday morning we made up a party to go into Iao [E-ah-o] valley. We
were all on horseback,--nine of us,--and a happy company we were. The
valley was so narrow that we crossed a swollen and rapid mountain stream
five times. The ascent the last part of the way, before reaching the
plateau, was very steep. But oh, what a magnificent valley we were in!
It was about three miles long, and from one to two broad, while all
around us, excepting the side we entered, were precipices from four to
six or seven thousand feet high, in many instances perpendicular. It was
a grand sight, to be remembered for a lifetime.

We dismounted from our horses, and the younger portion of the company
rambled in the woods in search of tree-shells.

"_Tree-shells!_ What are they, aunty?" asked Harry.

They are snail-shells. I think I was told that over a hundred varieties
are found on the islands, every valley and each hundred feet of
elevation having a different species. We used to notice the kind of tree
that seemed to have the most, and then searched for that tree. They
prefer the under sides of the leaves; so we would peer up in the
branches, and when we found one, would pick it off and drop it in our
pocket-handkerchief. After we were tired of "shelling," we came back to
where our elders were quietly chatting, and had a nice picnic lunch,
sitting on the grass, with fern-leaves for plates. What a sight was
before our eyes!--these majestic works of God rising thousands of feet
above us, apparently resting in clouds!

Towards the entrance of the valley is a very peculiar peak, called "The
Needle," from its being so sharp and pointed. I wanted very much to
sketch it, but started off without my materials; however grandpa had a
note-book and pencil, and I knew that he would be willing to give me a
leaf; but while we were off shelling, he left the valley and went back
to Wailuku with Mr. Alexander, they having no time for picnicking; so
what was I to do? Some of the lunch had been wrapped in white paper,
which I smoothed out, and relied on some of the party for a pencil. When
we got opposite "The Needle," I stopped my horse, and prepared myself
for sketching, but not a pencil could be found among all the party. What
do you think I did? I took a pin, and pricked the outline, and places
where the heavy shading was to be, and after I got home drew the
picture. This "Needle" has an historical interest. You remember I told
you that the heathen temple near Kowaihae was built by Kamehameha I.
before he left for the conquest of Maui. It was in this Iao valley that
the people of Maui met the king's forces. A band of warriors with their
families took refuge on this "Needle," which is accessible at such
places only as could be easily defended against a large number. The
enemy tried to starve them out, but failed. They then made believe they
had left the valley, but at night hid themselves on the banks of the
mountain stream where the warriors would go down to drink. As these poor
deluded people came to quench their thirst, they murdered them all, men,
women, and children. The stream flowed red with blood for two hours.
That was heathen warfare, cruel and bloodthirsty, and this was the last
battle fought on Maui; for the island became subject to the rule of
Kamehameha I.

[Illustration: BEARING BURDENS.--Page 89.]

[Illustration: THE NEEDLE. IAO VALLEY.--Page 156.]

At six o'clock Wednesday morning, we started on horseback for Maanea's
Landing, seven miles off, on the opposite side of the bay from
Kalepolepo, expecting to take a whale-boat to Lahaina; but no whale-boat
was there, so we had to return, bag and baggage, to Mr. Alexander's. We
rode back the distance of seven miles in an hour, which we thought was
doing very well, as grandma kept her place in the cavalcade all the way.

We passed over miles of land desolated by a waterspout which broke on
the mountains, rolling down a flood of water with vast quantities of
earth and stone into the valley below.

"What is a _waterspout_?"

It is a sort of whirlwind at sea; a body of water is caught up by the
wind, sometimes joining the cloud above it, and rolling on until it
meets with some obstacle, when it breaks, and washes away houses and
trees, or anything movable. It will sink a ship if it strikes it.

The next morning we went down again to the shore, and were more
successful, for the boat was there waiting for us. As the wind was fair,
the boat-boys raised their sail, and we danced over the waves swiftly
and merrily. After an hour's easy sailing, the wind left us, and our men
took their oars for a two hours' rowing to Lahaina. For a part of the
time we passed through shallow water over a coral reef, where we could
look down upon forests of coral, shaped like branches of trees, white,
or tinged slightly with red or green. It was a beautiful sight, and I
longed to get some to bring home. We came safely through the surf.
Lahaina looks beautifully as you approach it from the sea. It has some
very pretty houses, and they seem to be embowered by cocoa-nut and other
trees, so that the whole scene is more tropical in its appearance than
any other place on the islands. We landed at the same spot where we had
done six weeks before, and found our friends all ready to greet us,
having seen our boat approaching. Our three hours' sail had been a very
pleasant one, and the only sail we had had in a whale-boat.

After dinner, without stopping to rest, we mounted our horses, and sped
up the hill to Lahainaluna, a distance of two miles, over a hot, dusty
road, to attend the examination of the native seminary or college there.
Most of the services were conducted in an unknown tongue, but the
answers were prompt, and seemed to be in most instances satisfactory.
After sitting and hearing recitations for about three hours, we left,
and visited some of the rooms of the students. They looked very neat and
clean, many of them having gay patchwork quilts on their beds, and quite
a number of them had our illustrated newspapers pinned on the wall, with
their favorite general occupying a conspicuous place.

The first of May was commencement day. The exercises were held in the
church at Lahaina. We went down about nine. The alumni walked in a
procession to the church, and were a fine-looking, intelligent set of
men. The addresses were very creditable. The audience were attentive and
quiet, and were well-dressed. The singing was very good,--Hawaiian words
set to some of our familiar college tunes, which were sung with a great
deal of spirit.

After the exercises in the church, the alumni had a dinner in the yard
of the church, under a grove of cocoa-nut trees. The foreign guests were
honored with a table by themselves, and were served by students. At the
end of the table was a pig roasted whole, stuffed with greens, baked
with hot stones in one of their ovens in the ground. This dish they call
"luau" [lu-ow]. Besides whole pig, they had other pork, veal, poi,
bread, cake, and cocoa-nut water. The whole dinner was well-served, and
the white guests showed their appreciation of the good things by making
a hearty dinner.

But we must wait for our ride in Lahaina until to-morrow.




XVI.

Lahaina--Kauai.


"Come, aunty," called Alice, "we want to take our ride in Lahaina."

       *       *       *       *       *

We started soon after the alumni dinner, and rode down towards the
beach, where we saw the American consul's residence, a cozy, thatched
house, then turned off upon a road leading to the hospital. Here is the
finest grove of cocoa-nut trees to be seen anywhere on the group of
islands. Soon after the arrival of the missionaries, they perceived that
no one planted cocoa-nuts, and that there was danger of the trees dying
out. A missionary was talking to a high chief woman, and said to her,
"Why don't you plant cocoa-nuts, so that trees may grow?" "Oh! I shall
never live to eat them," she carelessly remarked. "True," said the
missionary, "you may not live to eat them, but your children may live
and enjoy the fruit."

She thought a few moments; a new idea seemed to have entered that mind
just coming out from the darkness of heathenism into the light of
Christianity. She had been accustomed only to think of herself, and what
she might enjoy. It had never occurred to her that she could do anything
for those who came after her until now, and she said, "It shall be
done;" and within twenty-four hours, a schooner was sent off, which
brought a load of cocoa-nuts, and these were planted where now is that
beautiful cocoa-nut grove.

On returning from this grove, we passed by fields of sugar-cane, and
visited Mr. Spencer's sugar-mill. It was a sweet place, and sticky too!
They have a mill turned by twelve or fourteen mules in spans, which
grinds the cane and presses out the juice. Then there are several vats
in a row, with fires under them, where the juice is boiled. The sugar is
clarified by lime-water; it is then put into round sieves which turn
with great rapidity, and through which the syrup is pressed, leaving a
clean-looking, dry, brown sugar. That is the process as near as I
remember it. They make barrels in the same building, so that the sugar
leaves the mill all ready for exporting.

Lahaina is a very dusty place, the earth is red and sticky. If we stayed
there long, it seemed as if not only our clothes, but we ourselves, must
become copper-colored.

On the Sabbath, May 3, a large assembly met at the church, and grandpa
addressed them. They listened as usual with great attention, and after
the service was over, they all flocked about him, wishing to shake
hands. The communion service was in the afternoon, and all the ministers
present took part. It was an interesting service, natives and foreigners
sitting together around their Lord's table. Several friends in the
mission coming together in the evening, at Dr. Baldwin's house, we sung
hymns for an hour to our dear home tunes. It recalled to some of us our
own loved America and the family circle where in years gone by we had
sung with these friends the same tunes.

On Monday we attended an exhibition of Mr. Dwight Baldwin's native
school. It was very interesting. The dialogues were exciting, even
though in an unknown tongue and spoken by little boys; for they acted
them out thoroughly, seeming to forget the spectators entirely. The
singing was spirited and in good time. There was none of that painful
shyness and hesitation which we sometimes see in our American schools,
and we greatly enjoyed the scene.

Tuesday being our last day in Lahaina, a great many natives came to see
us, bringing little love-tokens,--one or two shells such as they wear
for bracelets, or a pretty wreath of yellow feathers such as are worn
for a necklace. At seven in the evening, attended by quite a cavalcade
of natives and other friends, we went on board the steamer Kilauea, and
soon had our last view of Maui, as we slowly steamed away, and the
darkness came on.

We entered the port of Honolulu at about ten the next morning, having
been absent on our tour of the islands of Hawaii and Maui fifty-eight
days. Our welcome from the friends in Honolulu was very hearty. The
calls upon us commenced as soon as we reached Mr. Clark's, and each day
we dined or took tea or lunched with some one of the mission families.

Saturday morning, May 9, was spent in calling on the old Governor
Kekuanaoa, and his daughter, the Princess Victoria, the father and
sister of the present and late kings. They live in a very pretty-looking
house, with a garden attached to it. The governor has a grapery, and
presented us with some fine bunches of grapes. There were some very long
canoes being made on his premises, consisting each of the trunk of a
tree, scooped out and prettily finished.

Monday afternoon we went on board the little steam-schooner, Annie
Laurie, bound for the island of Kauai [Kow-i]. Hon. R. C. Wyllie was on
board, and a band of music accompanied us for a short distance. Music is
music the world over, but this was the only brass band on the islands.

One of the gentlemen on board was asked, the next morning, how he felt,
and replied, "I feel as if I had swallowed a kitten and a mouse, and the
kitten was after the mouse!"--the best description I have ever heard of
sea-sickness.

We arrived at Hanalei, Kauai, about twelve on Tuesday, and were met on
the beach by the missionaries, Messrs. Johnson and Wilcox, who escorted
us on horseback to the house of the former gentleman. The next morning
we breakfasted at Mr. Wilcox's, then at twelve had a meeting in the
church, where a goodly number of natives were assembled; among them
Kanoa, the governor of Kauai, who afterwards dined with us.

At three o'clock, Mr. Wyllie sent down a boat for our party, to take us
to his estate, called Princeville. It was a delightful row up the river,
the foliage on either bank was the richest and most luxuriant we had
seen. There was hardly a ripple on the water, and no sound was to be
heard but the gentle dip of the oars.

First, we visited the sugar-mill, which is the finest and most
expensive on the islands. There we witnessed the whole process, from the
grinding of the cane to the grained sugar. After that we went up to the
agent's house, and were cordially welcomed by his family, and shown over
the beautiful garden surrounding the house. There was a hedge of lovely
roses, with a profusion of fragrant blossoms. They gave us strawberries,
peaches, pine-apples, and sugar-cane to take with us,--a citron, too,
such as our preserved citron for cake is made of. It looked like an
enormous lemon. Besides this, we had an elegant bouquet of flowers,--a
magnificent fragrant magnolia, that queen of flowers, looking so waxen
with its heavy white leaves, and in beautiful contrast with it the
scarlet pomegranate blossoms: a fair white lily and snowy japonica
completed a bouquet fit for a royal gift.

The view from the piazza is exquisite. Mountains rise peak above peak in
the distance, while a beautiful valley, with its meandering stream,
lies at your feet. Tropical trees and lovely flowers are all around you.
I do not wonder that Mr. Wyllie is proud of Kikiula valley, with its
waving fields of sugar-cane. He called his estate Princeville after the
young Prince of Hawaii, who is now dead.

On Thursday morning, bright and early, we started on our travels again.
The roads of Kauai are better than on any of the other islands. Several
members of the party started a little before the others, and rode up
Kikiula valley through Princeville. After a ride of about two and a half
miles, we dismounted, and ascended a little eminence. What a scene was
before us! Far below was the river with its rapids, the course of which
we could trace down the valley for some distance. Around us were the
mountains, on the left a bluff, and before us the Twin Peaks, with
cascades in the distance. We galloped back, and soon overtook our
cavalcade. We had a fine ride that day through groves of
tropical-looking lohala-trees. Verdant valleys and lovely cascades,
winding streams and wooded precipices, abound. After fording a narrow
arm of the sea, grandma's horse gave himself so violent a shake that the
girth of the saddle broke, throwing both her and the saddle to the
ground. Fortunately, no bones were broken, as where she fell the sand
was quite deep, but she felt the shock for several days. We lunched at
the house of a German, who kept a small store, and then rode on several
miles to Kealia Park, the residence of Mr. Krull, a kind German
gentleman, who hospitably entertained us overnight. Mr. Krull has a
large dairy, which in part supplies the Honolulu market with butter. He
has a well-conducted, elegant, and tasteful establishment; indeed, it
was difficult to imagine that no lady's hand was employed in it. The
grounds about the house are prettily laid out, and two walks lead to a
picturesque summer-house, called "Bellevue," from which one looks off
over an extensive plain to the sea. We slept in a nice grass house, with
matting on the side instead of paper. Familiar engravings adorned the
walls, and the beds, with their pretty muslin mosquito-curtains, looked
inviting enough to the weary traveler.

We saw many kinds of tea-roses, with their delicate tints. The garden
abounded in a variety of vegetables, and we feasted on strawberries
which were hanging on their stems in the morning. Within sight was a
fine bluff extending down to the sea. About fifty feet from the top of
the ledge was a round hole, through which we could see the sky. The
bluff was very steep and thin, and exceedingly bold in its outlines, as
almost all the ranges of hills are here.

But now we must go to tea.




XVII.

Kauai and Oahu.


"Come aunty, come!" said Alice; "Willie and Carrie sent me to call you."
So I went with my little messenger.

       *       *       *       *       *

We left Mr. Krull's on the morning of May 15, and had a sandy and
uninteresting ride until noon. The only pleasant thing about it, beside
good company, was an exquisite bouquet of beautiful tea-rosebuds, from
our kind entertainer's garden. At noon a carriage met us, kindly sent by
a foreign resident at Lihue, and the older members of the party got into
it. It was a heavily-built English barouche drawn by two horses. Two
native outriders, when a steep hill was to be ascended, attached lassos
to the carriage, which were fastened to their saddles, so that, with the
aid of their horses, the carriage went steadily and quickly over the
ground, and the occupants had the satisfaction of riding in a coach and
four.

[Illustration: WAILUA FALLS.--Page 175.]

"What are _lassos_?" asked Alice.

A lasso is a long rope, sometimes made of leather. It is generally used
to catch wild horses or cattle with; but it did excellent service in the
way in which it was used that day.

We arrived at Mrs. Rice's, Lihue, in good season, and stayed there
overnight. We visited another sugar-mill there, and found it like the
others,--a _sweet_ place.

Early on Saturday morning, I started on an excursion to Wailua Falls,
about six miles distant. We rode over field and meadow, when suddenly my
companion reined in his horse, and came for me to dismount. "But where
are the falls?" said I. "You will see soon." A few steps brought me to
the brink of an abyss. What a beautiful scene burst upon my astonished
eye! Right before me was this huge sheet of water, pouring into a dark
circular pool beneath. One side of the fall was heavy, the other so thin
that it seemed as if every drop fell by itself; while covering the black
rocks beneath, as if with emerald velvet, were delicate ferns and
mosses. How pure and fleecy it looked! while far, far below us the river
gleamed like silver through the leaves. The hight of this fall is one
hundred and eighty-six feet, and it is fifty feet broad. Two miles
farther up the river is another fall nearly as high, but divided into
two cascades, one about one hundred feet, the other perhaps seventy.

There is a fine estate not far from the falls that seemed more like an
American country-seat than any I saw on the islands. A large square
house is built upon the edge of what was once an old crater, but which
is now transformed into a fine garden, abounding in flowers. This is a
dairy-farm, and is well kept. Our sixteen miles' ride was performed in
less than three hours, which we thought fast riding, there being no road
most of the way.

We left Lihue at ten o'clock, and rode over to Koloa, ten miles, in the
barouche, arriving there in time for dinner.

After tea the young people of the mission went down upon the beach to
see the "Spouting Horn." Through an underground channel, the waves are
driven in with so much force as to make, through a small hole in the
rock, a fountain forty or fifty feet high, with a sound that is heard
for some distance. There is also a blow-hole, reminding one of the
volcano, and a "boiler,"--a round cavity where the waves sink, and then
suddenly boil over.

On the Sabbath, grandpa addressed the natives in the morning. The
governor of the island of Kauai was present. In the afternoon he
preached to the foreigners. Quite a party came over from Lihue, making a
goodly number in all. Almost all the native churches on the Sandwich
Islands are pretty and neat. The people seem to take a great deal of
pride in them, and keep them in good repair. All are furnished with
bells, so that the sound of the "church-going bell" is heard in every
village.

Monday morning we started for Waimea with a large cavalcade, our friends
wishing to see us safely over the first half of our way. Mr. Rowell, of
Waimea, met us. The country as we neared Waimea grew desolate. They had
had no rain there for a year, and nearly all vegetation had dried up.
Not a blade of grass was seen, and only a few green trees relieved the
eye in that arid region. The reason of the drought is that Waimea is on
the leeward side of the mountains, which are a barrier to the clouds and
rain.

"What is _leeward_?" asked Harry.

On the opposite side from that upon which the wind blows. We were met
with great cordiality by the entire family. "Old Jona" came to see us,
an aged Hawaiian of Kamehameha I.'s time. A very interesting old man he
was too.

The next morning there was a meeting at the church, and grandpa
addressed the natives. "Old Jona" sat in front of the pulpit, and when
anything grandpa said pleased him particularly, he would turn round to
him, smile, and nod his head. It was amusing to observe his evident
enjoyment.

Some of us went down to the beach. The tide was coming in, and the boys
made what they called sandboats. They built a bank in the shape of a
boat, and watched to see the waves wash it away. At length they made a
heavy sand fort, which they called Sumter, that seemed strong enough to
defy the assaults of the water. Wave after wave dashed against and over
it, and finally it, too, disappeared like the others.

In the afternoon we rode up into the valley, where Mr. Rowell's garden
is. There everything was green, in striking contrast with the scene near
his house. We found some nice peaches, and brought home a pretty bouquet
of white roses and nasturtions. The next day, Wednesday, we started for
Koloa. Dr. Smith and party met us at Wahiawa. We stopped to dine at Mr.
Duncan McBride's, a Scotchman's, where we were sumptuously entertained.
After tea at Dr. Smith's, we embarked on the steam-schooner Annie
Laurie, and soon after seven, took our farewell look at the island of
Kauai.

Two nights and a day were spent on the deck of that schooner, with a
chopped sea, a head-wind, and sea-sickness,--a weary, dreary time. We
were somewhat comforted about three o'clock on Friday morning by hailing
the bark Young Hector, just outside of Honolulu harbor; for we knew that
before long home letters would be in our hands, and we had received none
for a month. About five o'clock, our steamer reached the wharf, and we
were soon in our comfortable quarters at Mr. Clark's. About eight
o'clock our letters came.

We had little time for rest; for the next day, Saturday, May 23, we
started on our tour around Oahu.

We saw among the Moanalua hills a curious little salt lake, as salt as
the sea. Here a slight shower dampened our clothes, but not our spirits.
About fifteen miles from Honolulu we stopped at Ewa, where grandpa was
to hold a meeting in the church. Quite a number of natives came, and we
had a pleasant greeting. The lunch was served for us at Mr. Bishop's
house, and we then resumed our journey over a good road, and finished
our ride of thirty-five miles about five o'clock. We stayed at Mr.
Emerson's, Waialua, and had two services in the native language on the
Sabbath. We really enjoyed these meetings with the natives, and
constantly exclaimed, "What hath God wrought!" Only a few years ago,
these islands were in the depths of barbarism and idolatry; now, what a
change! The people are well dressed; in the house of God they are
respectful and attentive, have their own deacons, their own choir, are
intelligent. Most of them can read, and when the text was given out, or
a chapter read, often the Bible would be opened to the place, and they
would follow the reading with great apparent interest.

On Monday the younger members of the party rode to a grove about eight
miles distant to get tree-shells, and brought home quite a number.

Tuesday morning we started for Kualoa. Grandpa and grandma rode in Mr.
Emerson's wagon drawn by two horses; the rest of us were on horseback.
The roads were good, our spirits excellent, and the weather fine; so, of
course, all was well. Mr. Charles H. Judd met us with his double team
about five miles out, and we lunched at Mr. Moffatt's. Mr. Moffatt is an
Englishman, who has here a fine place, and large herds of cattle. He has
a pretty bathing-place near the house, perhaps twenty feet in diameter,
half in sunlight, half in a grotto, with delicate ferns almost hiding
the rock.

There were several peacocks sunning themselves on a wall near the
house; but none of them condescended to spread their beautiful feathers
for us to admire. Before the house are two large stone idols, the only
ones we saw on the islands.

"Are they worshiped, aunty?" asked Alice.

No, they are placed there as curiosities.

Grandpa and Mr. Judd had an engagement, and started before us. Grandma
rode in Mr. Judd's wagon, and we left Mr. Moffatt's about two.




XVIII.

Oahu.


The next day at four, I took my customary seat, surrounded by my little
group, and resumed my narrative.

       *       *       *       *       *

About ten miles from Kahuku, at Hauula, is a church with a native
pastor,--Mr. Kuaia. We attended a meeting there, and afterward dined at
his house. He is a well-educated and gentlemanly man, and his wife an
interesting woman. They live in a neat grass house, furnished simply but
comfortably in American style. The dinner passed off in a very
satisfactory manner. They had pretty wreaths prepared for us; some were
made of a small orange-colored apple, others of yellow marigolds strung
on a cord. After dinner we rode another ten miles, and were tired enough
with our long day's ride to sleep well.

The next morning we rode over to the house of a friend to see the
lassoing of cattle. The house was on quite an eminence, so that we had a
good view of a level plain before it. A herd of cattle were driven into
the valley, and three gentlemen on trained horses, with lassos in their
hands, each selected their animal, and started in pursuit. It seemed as
if in an instant the creature knew it was hunted, for it would move from
place to place, and then start on a run, endeavoring to elude its
pursuers; but the horseman, never for a moment losing sight of his prey,
galloped on, turning this way and that as the creature did, until near
enough, and then the lasso sped through the air coiling round and round
the poor animal's legs, generally throwing him on his knees. Then the
hunter leaped from his saddle, the intelligent horse standing still, and
the lasso was drawn tighter and tighter until the animal fell on his
side. Finally, a rope was tied round the hind legs, and the work was
done. It was very exciting, as once in a while a horse would stumble and
fall, sometimes throwing his rider; and oftentimes the chase was long,
the animal eluding the hunter's grasp just as he thought he had cornered
him.

"Oh, I wish I had been there!" said Harry.

Yes, I don't doubt that you would have enjoyed it; but I felt so sorry
for the poor cattle that it tired me.

In the afternoon, we young people went on an excursion of about twenty
miles on horseback to see the Falls of Ka Liuwaa. After passing about
eight miles on the beach, we turned up a mountain ravine; two miles more
brought us to the end of our ride. We dismounted and had a lunch,
sitting in the branches of a fallen kukui-tree, and drinking water from
a cup made of a taro leaf. We took off our riding-skirts, threw them
over the saddle, and leaving our horses in the care of a native man,
walked up the narrow gorge, or gulch, as they call it here, seldom more
than one or two hundred feet wide, with precipitous sides rising
sometimes a thousand feet above us. At times we were just on the edge of
the stream, but as often jumping from rock to rock in the very bed of
the brook. Towards the termination of the gorge, is a place in the rock
called "The Canoe," a half-circle gouged right down the precipice as
smooth as if chiseled out, about fifty feet wide, and a thousand feet
deep.

"Why do they call it '_The Canoe_'?" asked Willie.

There is a story connected with it, as with everything on these islands.
One of their gods was angry with another god, and sought to kill him. I
believe the latter, who was running away, slipped his canoe down the
rock, making the groove I have described, and escaped to the sea.

Soon we came to the fall itself, and here the precipices on each side
were one and two thousand feet high. The fall is about a hundred feet,
running through a narrow gulch from a lake above, and probably never was
seen by a foreign eye. It was a lovely and romantic place. The water
fell into a small, but deep, circular pond. Exquisite varieties of ferns
and mosses grew upon the rocks lining its sides, and no sound was heard
but the plashing of water.

Some of the natives are said to have a superstitious fear of the place,
the remains of their old religion; and the way up was lined with
offerings, consisting of a leaf with a few stones piled on it. I don't
believe they are much afraid, for they laughed if the stones were thrown
over.

The next day we rode on fifteen miles to Kaneohe. Here we met Rev. Mr.
Parker's people. On our way we passed several rice-fields. Rice is grown
in wet places, like the taro. It looks very much like grain as you see
it in the distance, but it is of a very brilliant green.

Early the next morning we left for Honolulu. Soon after we started, our
baggage-horse ran away. One of the bags which he bore got loose and
frightened him. Our horses saw him coming with one bag swinging back and
forth under his body, and began to be uneasy, so we turned them off to
the side of the road, and he rushed past us. The gentlemen and natives
started in pursuit. The poor horse crossed a river, and was finally
caught in a taro-patch. Our bags were torn to pieces, and many of their
contents scattered over the plain; some were wet through or stained with
the green mud from the taro-fields.

"Did you find all your things?" asked Harry.

Almost everything; the poor horse looked sadly jaded and tired, but he
had to carry the baggage the rest of the way.

We rode up a precipitous ascent two or three thousand feet high, by a
zigzag road cut into its sides. The adjacent precipices are some of them
much higher. Over one of these Kamehameha I. drove the defeated warriors
of Oahu, in his last battle on the island. That was savage warfare. The
precipice up which we rode is called "The Pali," or precipice; it is at
the head of Nuuanu valley. The finest approach to it is from Honolulu.
Masses of rock rise high above you on either side, while a beautiful
panorama of hills, valleys, cottages, winding streams, and verdant
plantations all opens to your astonished eye, and bounding the distant
view is the ocean.

Riding down Nuuanu valley, we were again surrounded by our Honolulu
friends. Our tour of the Hawaiian Islands was ended.

The next day, May 30, the steamer Kilauea came into port, bringing
missionaries from the other islands to attend the general meeting
appointed to be held in Honolulu in the month of June.

The meeting opened June 3, and every morning and afternoon there were
business meetings until the 16th, when the examination of Oahu College
at Punahou commenced. It was a fine examination,--the same studies as in
our New England academies. It lasted through two days, and on the third
day there was an exhibition in the evening at the stone church. The
house was prettily decorated, the king lending his royal reception-flag
for the occasion, an enormous banner forty feet long. This was suspended
by the four corners from the ceiling, forming a sort of canopy over the
platform. There were also American, French, British, Spanish, and
Hawaiian flags, together with wreaths, mottoes, and bouquets. The church
was crowded with foreigners and natives. The speeches were good, the
young men doing themselves credit, and the singing was fine; indeed,
there are some superior singers in Honolulu. Commencement ended, as in
our own country, with the president's levee. Everybody seemed to be
present, and to enjoy themselves, and did ample justice to the abundant
collation spread in the college hall. The evening closed with patriotic
songs, and thus ended the college year of 1863.

General meeting was resumed after the exercises at Punahou were
concluded. Almost every missionary was present, and had brought a part
or the whole of his family. The Pastor of the Foreign Church, the
Seamen's Chaplain, President of Oahu College, native pastors and
delegates were all present. It was delightful to witness the harmony
pervading this large body, and to see how strong the Christian and
missionary tie that bound them together. There they sat day after day,
exchanging their opinions, discussing questions, and settling matters of
great importance to them and the people, meeting and praying together,
and it seemed as if the spirit of Christ rested upon them; for no jar or
discord was allowed to enter.

The work of the Lord in those islands is very great. There are now only
67,000 inhabitants, and yet in these forty-three years in which the
mission has been in operation there have been 52,413 converts, and
19,679 are now connected with the churches. Surely, this may be called a
Christian nation. There was another "Cousins' Meeting" on the evening of
June 6th. I wish you could peep in upon one of these gatherings. Thirty
or forty young people together, all united by the missionary tie, the
ladies wearing light or white muslins, with gay belts and sashes,
flowers in their hair, and happy, joyous, faces; the gentlemen with a
rose in their button-hole, in summer dress; windows, doors, and blinds
all open; and after the business of the meeting is over, numerous happy
couples promenading to and fro on the piazza. All this gives a festive
look, and one has a feeling of interest not felt in gatherings in our
own land. At parties there, one never expected a greater variety of
refreshments than cake, coffee, and strawberries; so they can be
conducted without much expense, and little companies are the order of
the day. Then it is so easy getting about; no cold winter snows to
trudge through, no chilling wind to guard against; everybody has a horse
or vehicle of some kind, or his next neighbor has, and is willing to be
neighborly.

But we must leave Honolulu parties, and go to an American supper.




XIX.

Honolulu again.


Wee little Alice came for me, with her bright face, at four o'clock next
day, to lead me to my accustomed seat in the sitting-room, where my
happy little group were always awaiting me.

       *       *       *       *       *

The general meeting occupied most of the days until three o'clock, and
we ladies took our sewing and listened to the grave debates. It was an
interesting season to all present.

Half a dozen of us started on horseback one afternoon, to visit Kalihe
valley, one of the beautiful gulches near Honolulu; but when we reached
the entrance of the valley, it rained so that we could not explore its
charms. But we turned off to the residence of an aged blind man, and
rambled in his garden among peach, orange, and mango-trees, and then sat
on the piazza eating mangoes and chatting for an hour. One of the most
valued trees in this whole garden was a little dwarf apple-tree, with
two good-sized apples on it. Those were some of the first ever grown on
the islands, I believe. After our mango feast, we had a brisk gallop
back to the town.

One day we occupied in making wreaths and mottoes to decorate the
schoolhouse, where the annual meeting of the Cousins' Society was to be
held in the evening. Over the middle window, opposite the door, were the
letters "X L C R" [Excelsior], and below were a wreath and festoon,
with pendants intermixed with beautiful flowers. On either side, was
"UNITY, 1852" [when the society was formed], and "HARMONY, 1863." In the
arch of each window hung a wreath of maile, a pretty green vine. Between
each window was a tin candle-stand, trimmed with the vine and flowers.
Over the door were four small American flags intertwined with one
Hawaiian flag. The reports of the officers were read, and various
addresses made, and "Unity" and "Harmony" were the watch-words of the
meeting. We had one more meeting at the schoolhouse, when grandpa
addressed the Cousins, reminding them of the responsibility resting on
them; that as their fathers laid the burden down, they must take it up,
and be to the Hawaiian people a help and support. They answered that
they were ready and willing, and, God helping them, they would try and
be faithful to the people committed to their care.

The last part of our stay in Honolulu we spent at the hospitable house
of Mrs. Chamberlain, one of the oldest buildings in Honolulu. The house
was in a very sunny spot, and was of stone. Pretty little lizards used
to come out of their hiding-places and sun themselves, and I often
watched them as they played about.

"Wouldn't they hurt you?" asked timid little Alice.

Oh, no, indeed! they are perfectly harmless. They are very small and
delicate; I seldom saw one more than three or four inches long.

"Do they have snakes on the islands?" asked Harry.

No, not one; the only poisonous reptiles are scorpions and centipedes. I
saw only one scorpion. That was at Punahou. I was sitting in the parlor
one day, and saw a small peculiar-looking creature creeping towards me
on the floor. Some movement of mine, made it throw its tail up over its
back; then I knew it was a scorpion; for I had read that the sting was
in the tail, and when frightened, it would throw its tail over its back
ready to strike. One of the gentlemen killed it.

I saw only two live centipedes. They are ugly-looking creatures. One
dreads a close contact with them. They run and twist about as if they
felt they were unwelcome guests.

We had a very pleasant farewell party at Dr. Judd's, where we met
missionary friends and some of the foreign consuls and their wives. Once
more I explored the extinct crater of Punchbowl, this time on horseback,
and admired the beautiful landscape before me when tinged with the
setting sun.

On the afternoon of June 26th, the native women brought us gifts of
tapa, necklaces, corals, etc. It was a suggestion of their own. They
wished us to take home mementoes of them, and had been planning it for
some time among themselves. Some of the necklaces were made of beautiful
yellow feathers. Only two of that color grow on the bird, one under each
wing; so the necklaces are very valuable. Others were made of hundreds
of small braids of human hair, from which is suspended a hook made of
whale's tooth. Those were worn in former times only by chiefs.

My last excursion was a ride round the old crater of Diamond Head. We
rode through the fine, cocoa-nut grove of Waikiki, drinking from its
refreshing fruit, and then cantered along the sea-beach, nearing the
desolate mountain at every bound. Just before we reached its base,--a
narrow belt of sand only separating it from the sea,--a party of
gayly-dressed natives came one by one round a projecting point on the
full gallop. All wore their red and yellow kehaes, or riding-suits.
There were twenty or more of them, and it seemed like a streak from a
rainbow as they flitted by.

The nearer we came to Diamond Head, the more forbidding it looked.
Nothing green is seen upon it; old decaying, crumbling lava extends from
its summit to its base. Beyond the volcano is a very ancient
burying-ground on the sea-shore, and as we rode over it, bones were
often seen. We completed the circuit of Diamond Head, riding a distance
of twelve miles in two hours, and returned quite refreshed by the
excursion.

I then bade adieu to my little horse, who had served me so faithfully
and well. He bore the name of "Shakspeare," though usually called by the
undignified title of Rat. Never did a little horse more deserve a
better name. But then, "What's in a name?"

On Sabbath afternoon, June 28th, Mr. Henry H. Parker, the son of a
missionary, was ordained pastor of the congregation worshiping in the
stone church. The services were very interesting to witness, but were
all in Hawaiian. We had become quite familiar with the native sentence,
"E pule kakou"--"Let us pray." The right hand of fellowship was given by
Rev. Mr. Kuaea, a native minister, and it was an affecting sight to see
those two young men, one white--the other dark-skinned,--clasp hands in
Christian fellowship.

The 30th of June I attended my last "candy-pull." This is a fashionable
amusement there. The candy is made from sugar, and is whiter and less
sticky than molasses.

Saturday, July 4th, opened in quite a patriotic manner with the firing
of thirteen cannon. At ten, we went to Fort Street church, and heard a
fine oration from the pastor, Rev. Mr. Corwin. The church was decorated
with flags. Over the pulpit was laid a very large and elegant American
flag,--a silken banner. It seemed like an American assembly on our
nation's birthday. Early in the afternoon we attended a picnic on the
grounds of Oahu College, Punahou. Those assembled sat in groups on the
grass, while our Declaration of Independence was read. Then they
adjourned to a long tent, under which were two tiers of tables,
abundantly laid with a tempting array of good things, while "the feast
of reason and flow of soul" were supplied by several patriotic speeches
and songs. Thirteen cannon were fired at noon and night, and fireworks
closed the evening. So you see how patriotic Americans are abroad.

July 5th was our last Sabbath in the islands. Grandpa had a farewell
meeting at the stone church in the morning, at which about twenty-five
hundred natives were present. Grandpa bade them good-by, and Judge Ii
[Ee], one of themselves, expressed their farewell. Many crowded round to
say their last "aloha." It really made us feel sad to part from this
interesting people. We longed to labor among them, and continue the good
work so favorably begun.

Monday morning, July 6th, we went on board the bark Comet. Farewells
were said; our visit at these islands was ended; and we were homeward
bound.

What happy memories cluster around that little group of islands in the
Pacific! We received only good deeds and kind words while there. The
houses of missionaries and foreigners were ever opened to us in
hospitality, and the natives were ready with a hand-grasp and a hearty
"aloha."

It is only about forty-three years since the missionaries first went
there, and nobody could read or write, nobody had ever written in their
language, and now--thanks to our heavenly Father and the
missionaries--almost all the natives can do both.

What should we be, if only a little over forty years ago, our parents
had been degraded heathen, knowing nothing of God, wandering about as
naked and as wicked as those poor Hawaiians were? We ought to thank God,
both for them and for ourselves,--for ourselves, because we were not
born thus, and for them, because the light of the gospel and of
civilization has dawned upon them.




XX.

Voyage to San Francisco.


"Now, aunty, tell us about your homeward voyage," said Willie as I made
my appearance in the sitting-room at the usual time. So I began:--

       *       *       *       *       *

Our voyage was a tedious one, for we had a succession of calms all the
way. It was very discouraging, for we would be sailing with a good
breeze, our sails all filled; then the wind would die away, and the
sails would flap lazily against the mast.

Our captain was patient and good-natured, and so were we. That shows
you the power of example. If the captain had fumed and fretted, and
wondered why we could not have a wind, very likely we should have felt
ill-natured and looked cross too, and have had a very unpleasant time.
As it was, we made the best of our calms, and hoped for a breeze, and
rejoiced even if we were "making haste slowly."

On the ninth day out, we had some variety, for a shoal of fish passed
us, called albacoa; we caught a fine large one. A ship hove in sight,
too, and we thought she had just the name for our calm sailing, the
"All-Serene." She was an English ship, from Sydney, Australia, and had
been sixty days out. She wanted fresh provisions and flour; so our
captain gave her potatoes, bananas, and turkeys. Being so much becalmed
ourselves, our captain did not dare to give them flour, as we might come
short, and they had plenty of hard bread. It quite revived our courage,
for what were our nine days compared with their sixty days? And we had
plenty of provisions and good company.

We saw a great many flying-fish every day. These are small, and have
their forward fins so long that they serve them as wings skimming along
on the surface of the water. They looked very silvery in the sunlight,
and I thought at first they were little white birds.

Several times we saw porpoises, and one day a shoal of whales was in
sight. One big black fellow leaped out of the water; we first saw his
great head, then his fluked tail thrown up in the air, as he dived down
to depths beneath. Some of them were spouting and playing about us, and
one had a young whale with her.

A large shoal of "skip jacks" surrounded the ship one morning; there
must have been thousands of them!

"What are _skip jacks_?" asked Willie.

A pretty blue fish between one and two feet long; they were mostly blue,
but seemed to change to all colors of the rainbow. The men fished for
them with a hook covered with a rag, which the fish were supposed to
imagine a flying-fish, and ten of them were silly enough to be deceived;
so we had a chowder of fresh fish.

The captain had the galley or cook-room cleared up for us one afternoon,
and we boiled sugar for candy. He did everything possible for our
comfort, and often sent in a dish of hot roasted peanuts for us. These
peanuts grew on the Sandwich Islands. We saw the plant, the leaf of
which is very much like a clover-leaf, and the nut grows underground on
the roots like artichokes. Kind island friends had given us a large
supply of bananas and pine-apples; so we had quite a variety on our bill
of fare.

On Tuesday, the 28th of July, we came into water colored and of a
lighter shade than any we had seen. The cause of this is said to be the
immense amount of mud washed down from the gold-diggings through the
Sacramento River; I can not say whether this is true or not. We hoped to
get into San Francisco in time to dine the next day; but a calm
dissipated all such anticipations, and we lay off and on by the
Farallone Islands all the night of the 29th.

We saw a great many diver birds, about the size of pigeons. While
sailing along on the water, they would all at once dive and disappear,
and remain under water a long while.

The Farallone Islands are a small group of rocky islets, lying in the
Pacific Ocean, about thirty-five miles west of San Francisco. There are
two groups of them, the North and South Farallones, about eight miles
distant from each other. The southern islands are the most important.
On the summit of the largest rock, which is about three hundred and
fifty feet high, is a lighthouse. The only person on the island is the
light-keeper. The islands are one vast menagerie. Birds of many
varieties make their home here by swarms, and thousands of sea-lions and
seals cover the rocks.

[Illustration: SEA LION.--Page 213.]

"What are _sea-lions_?" asked Harry.

A species of seal often as large as an ox, and weighing from two to
three thousand pounds each. They make a very loud noise, a sort of
moaning cry, like "yoi hoey, yoi hoey." The young seals are of a dark
mouse color, but the older ones are of a light-brown. At a distance the
braying of these sea-lions sounded like the rumbling of a railroad
train. There is a hole in the rock on one of these islands, where the
air is drawn through with a sound like the whistle of a steam-engine.

Every spot and foothold on these rocks seems to be the abode of a bird
or seal; the waters around swarm with life, while large flocks of birds
are coming from every direction. Vast quantities of eggs are taken from
these rocks and carried to the San Francisco market every year.

We left the Farallones about three o'clock in the morning, and when we
came on deck, they were fading in the dim distance.

One of the first objects noticed as we approached the coast was Fort
Point, where is a massive fortification, well mounted with heavy guns.
Between this point and Lime Point is the celebrated Golden Gate, which
is about a mile wide and is the entrance into the bay of San Francisco.
Connected with Fort Point is a lighthouse and fog-bell; the latter is
always rung during foggy weather.

In the bay just opposite the Golden Gate, and about three and a half
miles from Fort Point, is Alcatraces Island. It commands the entrance
to the great bay of San Francisco. About the center of the island is a
large building which may be used for barracks or a citadel. A belt of
batteries encircles the island, and it seems to be defended at every
point. There is a lighthouse and fog-bell on this island also.

Soon after passing Alcatraces Island, we came to anchor near Mission
Street wharf. We waited for the custom-house officer to come on board.
After a short detention we went down the ship's ladder into a small
boat, and were soon on shore. Half an hour's ride brought us to the Lick
House, and the journey to the Hawaiian Islands was among the things of
the past. Though so far away from home and friends, we were in the
United States, and under our own beloved flag.

We did not forget to thank the Father of mercies for his kind care of us
when on the deep, and beseech him to continue his loving-kindness to us
while in that far-off part of our great country. Friends gathered about
us with their warm greetings, and we soon left the hotel and took up our
abode in a quiet family circle. But our hearts began to hasten our
departure for our eastern home.




XXI.

California.


We took one day a very pleasant drive out to the Cliff House. Opposite
this hotel, which is just on the beach, are some craggy rocks, which are
entirely covered with seals and sea-lions. They are so near that you can
see them playing in the water, which seems to be alive with them, while
their mournful cry echoes in your ears, "yoi hoey, yoi hoey." We took
quite a drive on the beach, and saw many little "Portuguese
men-of-war," which had been washed up on the sand. They are a sort of
stiff jelly fishes, in shape resembling a wafer, with the half of
another wafer set up across the center like a sail. We used to see
thousands of them floating on the water when at sea. It was quite
interesting to watch some little birds, which ran along so swiftly on
the sand that they seemed to glide without any movement of their feet.
They looked brown, but when they flew, their breasts and the under part
of their wings were snowy white; and as their wings vibrated quickly,
the sudden alternation of brown and white had a very pretty effect.

At four o'clock on the afternoon of August 5th, we started for
Sacramento, on the steamer Yo Semite. The steamer was named for a
beautiful valley in California. The first object of interest we passed
was Alcatraces Island, with its circle of batteries; but our chief
attention was bestowed upon the city left behind us and the
shipping,--the larger craft lying at anchor, or changing their position,
and the smaller boats flitting here and there in the bay. Passing
several islands, we entered San Pablo Bay [St. Paul]. The scenery on
either side was interesting, but soon, passing through the Straits of
Carquinez, we were in Suisun Bay, and neared the city of Benicia. An
arsenal, barracks for soldiers, and the works of the Pacific Mail
Steamship Company are located here. While sailing in this bay, we had a
good view of Monte Diablo, a high and lonely mountain which seems to be
the landmark for all the country round. We passed the San Joaquin River,
and soon entered the Sacramento River, a muddy, turbid stream. All the
mud from the mines is washed into this river, and pours down into the
bay, and from thence to the ocean, coloring the water for a long
distance out to sea. We passed by vast quantities of _tules_ or rushes,
which cover the surface of the water for miles. Our arrival at
Sacramento was about midnight, but we remained on board the boat until
morning, and then went to the Vernon House. After breakfast we walked a
short distance up the river to a fine bridge about nine hundred feet
long.

After lunch we took the cars for Folsom, twenty miles from Sacramento,
accompanied by a friend. We passed into the mining district, and at
Folsom took a carriage. It was warm and dusty riding, as there is no
rain in the summer in that section of California. After an hour's ride,
reached Willow Springs, where were the mines we had come to see. This
was an hydraulic mine; that is, it is worked by water. We clambered
about in the excavation, saw the bed rock, upon which there is a layer
of gold-bearing gravel, then one of clay, another of gold-bearing
gravel, then of clay again, and one more of gravel. They play with a
hose on the gravel, and the water and gravel is washed down through long
sluices, the bottom of which is made uneven by blocks of wood placed
across. The bits of gold lodge on the uneven surface. In some places
they cut down the gravel with pickaxes, and wash it in pans. One man
washed out a spadeful of gravel for us, and we brought home a few specks
of gold dust. We returned to Sacramento to dine, and after dinner I rode
out to the Fair grounds, where the great State agricultural fairs are
held. This is the fashionable drive in Sacramento in the afternoon. Here
is a fine drive of a mile, outside of which are stalls for cattle. A
gentleman told us that in 1849 he sold flour for three hundred dollars a
barrel; and bought potatoes for a dollar and a half a pound. That was
when California was first known as a gold country, and so many people
went thither to seek their fortunes.

The next morning, Mr. M., one of our fellow-passengers from New York to
San Francisco took us a delightful drive about the city and suburbs. We
saw the levees, which were erected to save the city from another flood.

"What are _levees_?" asked Willie.

They are heavy banks of earth built along the margin of the stream. The
last flood took place in the winter, on December 9, 1861, and January
10, 1862. The whole city was flooded. The water rose over the table in
the dining-room of the hotel in which we stayed. Houses could be reached
only in boats, and no one knew how soon his dwelling might be undermined
and fall. A great deal of the fertile land about Sacramento was ruined
by the flood, being covered with a deep layer of gravel.

We saw the new capitol which is in process of erection, and a large,
handsome structure it will be. We passed near Sutter's Fort, where it
was first discovered that there were gold mines in this country.

In 1853, the city spread over about as much ground as it now does, when
it was destroyed by fire. The climate of Sacramento is very different
from that of San Francisco, being much warmer. It is so far from the
coast that it escapes the chilling wind that visits the latter city at
certain seasons of the year.

In the afternoon we went on board the steamer Chrysopolis bound for San
Francisco. We went through a slough (or, as the people pronounce it,
_slew_) in the river about seven miles long.

"What is a _slough_?" asked Alice.

There was a long bend in the river, of fourteen miles, so they cut a
sort of canal across it, and half the distance was saved. This canal
they call a slough.

Mr. M. told us that in one of the early years of the gold excitement,
there was an old man who had watermelons that were in great demand,
sometimes selling for five dollars apiece. The next year a great many
people wanted the seed to plant; these were sold for sixteen dollars per
ounce, but not one came up; so they suppose he boiled the seeds before
he sold them! We arrived at San Francisco towards midnight. At noon on
Saturday we took the steamboat for Oakland, which is across the bay from
San Francisco. It took its name from the number of oak-trees growing
there. They give a green and pleasant appearance to the country round.
California College is situated in Oakland.

On Sabbath we had the pleasure in the morning of listening to a sermon
from an old friend, and in the evening grandpa told the people of what
God had wrought through the missionaries in the Sandwich Islands.

Monday morning we were taken a long ride over the country about Oakland.
On our way back, we stopped at Mr. B.'s orchard, and had some very nice
plums, white and purple. There were nectarines, also, which have the
skin of a plum and the stone of a peach; apricots, which have the skin
of a peach and stone of a plum; I never knew the difference in those two
fruits before. We had some delicious peaches, and brought away a branch
of the almond-tree, with the nuts on it, which looked like green
peaches. We then took the Oakland boat and were soon at our home in San
Francisco. California is noted for its fine fruits, and sometimes we saw
baskets of assorted kinds looking like those fine paintings we admire so
much.

On Thursday, August 13, we bade our kind and hospitable California
friends farewell, and went down to embark on the steamer Golden Age.
The kindness of our friends did not end when we left their houses, as
beautiful bouquets and baskets of fruit in our staterooms testified. We
parted from them with regret, for we had received nothing but kindness
from their hands. Farewells were said, and San Francisco soon faded from
our sight. We were again on the restless ocean, but we were _homeward
bound!_




XXII.

Homeward Bound.


"Aunty, aunty, please come and tell us our story," said little Alice;
"we are all waiting. You know this is our last story, for we go home
to-morrow." So down I went.

       *       *       *       *       *

We were fairly at sea again. Our steamer was a very good one, and we had
pleasant accommodations. Grandpa and grandma had a fine, large
stateroom, and as there were not a great number of passengers, I, also,
had a stateroom all to myself. I had the lower berth taken out, and my
trunks brought up and placed under my berth; then I spread down my rug,
and brought in my deck chair, and my room had quite a cozy, homelike
air; and I took a great deal of comfort in it. The officers on the boat
were very pleasant, and we became acquainted with some of the
passengers.

On Sabbath morning, eight of the younger people met together and formed
a choir, practiced sacred music, and sung in the morning service, when
Rev. Mr. McMonagle preached. In the afternoon we went to the forward
part of the steamer, and grandpa preached to the steerage passengers, on
"Christ in the ship in the storm." The choir sung, and the poor people
looked so gratified and pleased to have preaching and singing that it
did one's heart good.

We used to sing songs almost every evening, and it was very pleasant as
we sat on the quarter-deck looking off on the water. The moon cast her
radiance over the ocean; the white foam, in a long line back, marked our
track; and the brilliant stars, seeming far brighter than they do in our
northern heavens, looked like diamonds in God's firmament. We sailed
along easily and smoothly until the morning of August 30, when we were
wakened early by the rolling of the ship, and found a hurricane upon us.
It was almost impossible to dress, but after being tossed against both
sides of my stateroom several times, I succeeded. What a dismal scene
met my eye as I opened my door! Carpets rolled up, sofas and chairs
piled in together, the marble tops of the tables taken off and lashed to
the floor, skylights leaking, so that we had to choose our footing
carefully, or the slippery floors and the ship's rolling would soon
bring us down to the floor. On every hand crashes were heard from
unlucky lamp-shades, bottles, pitchers, or anything breakable that was
not properly secured. The waves seemed mountain high, and the wind was
so strong that their crests were blown off in spray.

After a while the captain ordered us all below. The scene in the lower
cabin was dismal in the extreme. Passengers--many of them only half
dressed, most of them pale from sea-sickness or fear--all crowded
together on the sofas on one side of the saloon; for the vessel lay over
so that we could sit only on one row of sofas. A dozen people, perhaps,
were leaning over the backs of the sofas at one time, all sea-sick.
Children were crying from hunger or fright. What a scene! We shipped
wave after wave with a shock that made the vessel tremble from stem to
stern. Crash followed crash. At one time the cases filled with dishes in
the pantry gave way, and what a noise of broken crockery! Three enormous
baskets were filled with the pieces. One of the bulkheads was knocked
out, and eleven sheep were washed overboard. The butcher's shop was
washed away, and two barrels of beef, one of mackerel, and one of table
butter went with the rest. The heavy stoves in the steerage cook-room
were turned half-way round, and the capping of the huge smokestack was
moved several inches. The terrible wind lifted the hurricane-deck, so
that six of its props fell out. There was danger of the upper deck and
stateroom being blown away. That was a time to try people's souls, to
make them consider whether they were the Lord's or not. It was a blessed
thing to feel that we were in God's hands, that even if the water closed
over our bodies, it would be only the gate of heaven! What happiness to
be able to feel in one's heart: "My Father rules the storm." Many of us
thought of grandpa's sermon on the Sabbath, when he said, "With Christ
in the ship, we may smile at the storm."

The wind was so violent that the men doing duty on deck had to lie down,
and pull themselves about, or creep on their hands and knees. For two
hours our forward rail was three feet under water, the vessel lay so
much on one side, and for some time the ship would not mind her helm,
and lay in the trough of the sea. Finally, they rigged a small sail aft,
and that brought her up. He who rules the wind and the sea caused the
storm to abate, and towards evening it was comparatively calm. We had
had nothing to eat for twenty-four hours, which will give you some idea
of the storm. Staterooms and clothes were in many instances wet; but no
one complained, for all felt thankful for our escape. In the evening
there was a meeting in the saloon, and almost all the passengers
assembled with the officers of the vessel to give thanks to God for his
preserving mercy.

The next morning I rose early, so that I might see the entrance to
Acapulco Harbor. This entrance is very narrow, and is surrounded by high
wooded hills, forming one of the best harbors on the Pacific coast,
south of San Francisco. I went on shore again; but I gave you a
description of the place before.

August 27 found us at anchor off Panama. We were sorry to leave our good
ship and her pleasant corps of officers. When we were in the cars, the
natives brought a great many things to sell. One man would have
ear-rings, the next wine, then "nice lomonard," or little ornaments of
pearl-shell, while others brought fruit and cakes. After a tiresome
hour, we started on our journey across the Isthmus.

One thing that attracted my attention was the telegraph-posts; they
looked like stone, but were made of concrete.

"What is _concrete_?" asked Harry.

In this instance, I suppose it was a composition made of pounded stone
and cement cast in a mold. The mold was filled in with concrete and left
for several days. The reason of their having such posts was that the
worms destroyed the wooden ones.

The natives brought into the cars some beautiful flowers. They were of
alabaster whiteness, in shape not unlike a tulip, and having a strong
perfume somewhat like the magnolia. Resting within the cup of the
flower, lies the perfect image of a dove, with its beautifully formed
wings spread out from its side, its head bent forward, and its tiny bill
delicately tipped with red almost touching its snowy breast. No one who
has seen the flower can wonder that the early Spanish Catholics
believed the flowers to have had a miraculous origin, and named it
"Flor del Espiritu Santo" or "The Flower of the Holy Ghost."

Matachin is the largest station on the Isthmus. There we procured
oranges, which were unusually fine, also cakes tasting like macaroons,
and some bottles of milk.

Over the Chagres River at Barbacoas, is a wrought-iron bridge six
hundred and twenty-five feet long and eighteen broad, standing forty
feet above the surface of the water; it is said to be one of the longest
and finest bridges in the world. All along the road the sensitive plant,
with its feathery pink blossoms, grew in wild profusion.

At half-past eight in the evening we were on board the steamer Champion.
We soon commenced our last voyage, and _such_ a voyage! The vessel
rolled, and the ice in the hold gave out, and in consequence the meat
was in no fit state to eat. Every body and every thing seemed
uncomfortable. It was a great change from the clean and pleasant Golden
Age. We saw the islands of San Domingo, Narvasa, Jamaica, Cuba, Santa
Inagua, and Mayo Guano, of the West Indies.

On the morning of September 3, we were chased by a steamer. She was
under sail when we first saw her, but commenced getting up steam. She
lost time in that operation, and we outsailed her, much to our joy. Our
captain said without doubt she was a privateer.

Next day we were in the Gulf Stream. It was rough, squally, and rainy,
and the steamer rolled worse than ever. But all things come to an end,
and the next day was bright and pleasant. We left the Gulf Stream in the
night and were happy in a smooth sea. Six or seven ships were in sight,
and in the afternoon we passed Barnegat Lighthouse, then Highland
Light. We saw the lights in the hotels at Long Branch, and finally the
light on Sandy Hook beamed on our delighted eyes.

At two o'clock Sabbath morning, September 6, we lay at anchor off
quarantine, and at five we were at the wharf in New York,--our voyage
ended. After much delay and confusion, we got ourselves and baggage on
and in a carriage, and soon were receiving the greetings of friends.

Surely, we ought to sing with our whole hearts that beautiful hymn of
Addison:--

    "How are thy servants blest, O Lord!
      How sure is their defense!
    Eternal wisdom is their guide,
      Their help, Omnipotence.
    In foreign realms and lands remote,
      Supported by thy care,
    Through burning climes they pass unhurt,
      And breathe in tainted air.

    "When by the dreadful tempest borne
      High on the broken wave,
    They know thou art not slow to hear,
      Nor impotent to save.
    The storm is laid, the winds retire,
      Obedient to thy will;
    The sea that roars at thy command,
      At thy command is still.

    "In midst of dangers, fears, and deaths,
      Thy goodness I'll adore;
    I'll praise thee for thy mercies past,
      And humbly hope for more.
    My life, while thou preserv'st that life,
      Thy sacrifice shall be;
    And death, when death shall be my lot,
      Shall join my soul to thee."

[Illustration: THE LORD'S PRAYER IN ENGLISH.]

     Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy
     kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven.
     Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our debts
     as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation;
     but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the
     power, and the glory, for ever. Amen.

[Illustration: THE LORD'S PRAYER IN HAWAIIAN.]

     E ko makou Makua iloko o ka lani, e hoa noia kou inoa. E
     hiki mai kou Aupuni; e malamaia kou makemake ma ka honua
     nei, e like me ia i malamaia ma ka lani la. E haawi mai ia
     makou i keia la i ai na makou no neia la; e kala mai hoi ia
     makou i ka makou lawehala ana, me makou e kala nei i ka poe
     i lawehala i ka makou. Mai hookuu oe ia makou i ka
     hoowalewaleia mai; e hoopakele no nae ia makou i ka ino; no
     ka mea, nou ke Aupuni, a me ka mana, a me ka hoonaniia, a
     mau soa aku. Amene.


Boston: Printed by Dakin and Metcalf, 37 Cornhill.




       *       *       *       *       *

Transcriber's Notes:


Corrected minor punctuation errors.

Moved The Lord's Prayer in English and Hawaiian to the end of Chapter
XXII, as indicated in the Table of Contents. Moved other illustrations
to paragraph breaks.

Page vi, Contents, Chapter XIII: Changed Honiopu to Honoipu
  (Arrival at Honoipu).

Pages 117, 176: Kept original spelling of "hight".

Kept the following spelling variations:

Page 185: a native pastor,--Mr. Kuaia
Page 204: Rev. Mr. Kuaea, a native minister

Page 142: I na misioneri nei,
Page 147: Na misionari nei.