favoured by wind and tide, sailed swiftly forward in a direction almost
due north. The aspect of the river now frequently changed: its breadth
varied from one to two and three miles. We often came into large reaches
many miles in circumference, and surrounded by magnificent scenery. We
sailed past pretty hilly islands adorned with lofty spreading trees, and
every where found a sufficient depth of water to admit the largest
ships. The steep banks sometimes opened to delightful plains, where the
deer were grazing under the shadow of luxuriant oaks. The voyage was in
fact, even at this time of year, a most agreeable excursion.
When we had proceeded eighteen miles from our night camp, and
twenty-three from the river's mouth, we reached the confluence of the
two streams. One flows from the east, and the other from the north. The
Spaniards call the first Pescadores; farther inland it receives two
other rivers, which, according to our pilot, are equally broad and deep
as itself: the missionaries have given them the names of St. Joachim,
and Jesus Maria. Some way up these rivers, whose banks are said to have
been uncommonly fertile and thickly peopled, the pious fathers have
journeyed to convert the Indians and procure labourers for the missions.
Now that a part of the natives have yielded to conversion, and others
have fled farther into the interior to escape it, no human being is to
be found in the tract of land which we were surveying; no trace remains
of a numerous race called Korekines, by whom it was once inhabited.
Since the river Pescadores was already known, I chose the other, which
flows from the north, and is called Sacramento. Towards noon, after we
had ascended it some miles, a violent contrary wind forced us ashore;
latitude 38° 22'.
The wind increasing every moment in strength, we were obliged to give up
for this day all thoughts of making farther progress; and resolving to
pass the night here, pitched our tents in a pleasant meadow on the west
side of the river. I then climbed a hill, to enjoy a more extensive
prospect; and observed that the country to the west swelled into hills
of a moderate height, besprinkled with trees growing singly. In the east
and south-east the horizon was bounded by icy mountains, the Sierra
Nevada, part of the immense chain which divides America from north to
south: they appeared to be covered more than half-way down with ice and
snow. The distance of these mountains from my present station could not
be less than forty miles. Between them and the river the country is low,
flat, thickly wooded, and crossed by an infinite number of streams,
which divide the whole of it into islands. We had not yet met a single
Indian; but the columns of smoke which rose from this abundantly
irrigated tract of land, showed that they had taken refuge where the
dragoons and their lassos could not follow to convert them.
It seems certain that the river Pescadores, as well as those of St.
Joachim and Jesus Maria, which fall into it, take their rise in the icy
mountains, since they flow from the east, and pass through the low
lands, where they receive a multitude of smaller streams. On the
contrary, the river Sacramento flowing from the north, from quite
another region, has its source, according to the Indians of the mission,
in a great lake. I myself conjecture, that the Slavianka, which falls
into the sea near Ross, is an arm of it.
The many rivers flowing through this fruitful country will be of the
greatest use to future settlers. The low ground is exactly adapted to
the cultivation of rice; and the higher, from the extraordinary strength
of the soil, would yield the finest wheat-harvests. The vine might be
cultivated here to great advantage. All along the banks of the river
grapes grow wild, in as much profusion as the rankest weeds: the
clusters were large; and the grapes, though small, very sweet, and
agreeably flavoured. We often ate them in considerable quantities, and
sustained no inconvenience from them. The Indians also eat them very
voraciously.
The chase furnished us with ample and profitable amusement. An abundance
of deer, large and small, are to be met with all over the country, and
geese, ducks, and cranes, on the banks of the rivers. There was such a
superfluity of game, that even those among us who had never been
sportsmen before, when once they took the gun in their hands, became as
eager as the rest. The sailors chased the deer very successfully.
When it grew dark, we kindled a large fire, that our hunters, some of
whom had lost their way, might recover the camp. In the night we were
much disturbed by bears, which pursued the deer quite close to our
tents; and by the clear moonlight we plainly saw a stag spring into the
river to escape the bear; the latter, however, jumped after him, and
both swam down the stream till they were out of sight.
At sunrise, as the wind had fallen a little, we continued our voyage.
On the shore we met with a small rattlesnake, which might have been a
dangerous neighbour. It was, however, his destiny to become our prize,
and enrich the collection of Dr. Eschscholtz. The river now took a
north-westerly direction. Its breadth was from two hundred and fifty to
three hundred fathoms, independently of numerous branches on the east
side, flowing between various small islands. The country on the west
bank was of a moderate height; that on the east was low. The power of
the current impeded our progress, though our rowers exerted all their
strength. As the sun advanced towards the meridian, the north wind also
rose again; so that with our utmost efforts we could advance but little,
and at noon we were obliged to lay-to again, having proceeded only ten
miles the whole day. The latitude on the western shore, where we now
landed, was 38° 27', and the longitude 122° 10'.
Here we had reached what proved the termination of our little voyage.
The unfavourable state of the weather would not allow of our making any
farther progress; and our pilot assured us that at this season the
quantity of rain that falls, so much swells the river and strengthens
the currents, as to make it impossible to contend with the continually
increasing force of the stream. We were therefore compelled to abandon
the farther prosecution of these inquiries to some future traveller,
whose fate shall lead him hither in summer time, when these obstacles do
not exist.
The neighbourhood of our landing-place seemed to have been recently the
abode of some Indians. We found a stake driven into the earth, to which
a bunch of feathers was attached for a weather-cock; in several places
fire had been kindled, as some burning embers still attested. There were
also two Indian canoes made of reeds. The pilot gave me the names of two
tribes who had formerly dwelt in this region, and probably still
wandered in its vicinity--the Tschupukanes, and Hulpunes. We could now
see the smoke of their fires rising from the marshy islands, the higher
parts of which they inhabit.
The majestic chain of mountains of the Sierra Nevada looked most
beautiful from this spot. The whole eastern horizon was bounded by these
masses of ice, and before them the low land lay spread out like a
verdant sea. From the Bay of St. Francisco, the Sierra Nevada are
nowhere visible; but they first come in sight after having passed the
point where the Pescadores and the Sacramento unite.
The day was again passed in sport, and we shot many stags, the meat of
which proved extremely good. During the night we were again disturbed by
the little wolves so common here: they stole some pieces of our venison.
Early the next morning we prepared for our return, and soon quitted
these lovely and fertile plains, where many thousand families might live
in plenty and comfort, but which now, from their utter loneliness, leave
a mournful impression on the mind, increased by the reflection that the
native Indians have been nearly exterminated. During our return voyage,
we were very diligent in taking soundings, and found the water in the
middle of the river always as much as from fifteen to seventeen and
twenty fathoms; but at its mouth not more than four or five fathoms
deep.
On the 23rd of November we again reached our vessel, laden with venison
for the whole crew. Captain Lasaref had arrived during our absence with
his frigate; having struggled with storms almost the whole way from New
Archangel to St. Francisco. With the intention of sending letters home
by him, I had waited for his arrival to leave California. Our vessel was
therefore now immediately prepared for sailing, our camp on shore broken
up, and all the instruments brought on board. During the last night our
people passed on land, they killed a polecat which had slunk into the
tent. This animal, of the size and form of an ordinary cat, has so
abominable a smell, that its vicinity is insupportable. Dogs, when they
sometimes attack and bite these creatures, cannot relieve themselves
from the stench, but continue to rub their noses so violently against
the ground as they run, that they leave a stream of blood on their
track. Polecats may be considered in the brute creation what the
Kalushes are among men.
On the morning of the 25th of November, as soon as the tide ebbed, we
towed out of the Bay of St. Francisco with a north-west wind, which here
regularly brings fine weather. The sea was still so much agitated by the
recent south-west storms, that it rolled large billows into the channel
which unites it with the bay. Our vessel being dashed against these
breakers by the force of the current from the channel, would no longer
obey the helm, and we narrowly escaped being cast against a rock. I
would therefore recommend others of my profession only to sail out of
this bay when the water in the channel is tranquil, which usually
happens after the wind has blown for several days from the north-west.
According to repeated observations, we found the latitude of the
Presidio of St. Francisco to be 37° 48' 33", and the longitude 122° 22'
30". The declination of the needle was 16° east.
The medium of our observations in the bay gave us the time for high
water, at the new and full moon, 11 hours and 20 minutes.
The greatest difference in the height of the water was seven feet. The
rivers which fall into the bay have a great influence on the times of
ebb and flow, so that the ebb lasts eight hours, and the flood only
four.
THE SANDWICH ISLANDS.
THE SANDWICH ISLANDS.
On losing sight of the Californian coast, we steered southwards, to take
advantage as soon as possible of the trade-wind, proposing by its means
to sail direct for the Sandwich Islands. A strong and lasting
north-wester favoured our intention, and on the 3rd of December we
crossed the tropic of Cancer in the latitude 133° 58', gained the
trade-wind, and began our run westward, supposing ourselves secure from
storms in this tropical region; we were, however, mistaken: already on
the 5th a high wind from the south-east compelled us to take in all
sail; on the 6th it shifted to the west, and on the 7th to the north. We
experienced from this quarter some violent gusts, after which the
heavens cleared, the storm abated, and towards evening on the 8th, we
regained the ordinary trade-wind. I mention these storms, only because
they are almost unexampled at so great a distance from land, between the
tropics, and especially as coming from the west; but it appears that
this year was quite out of the ordinary course, and produced a number of
strange phenomena of which we heard complaints wherever we went.
The weather, after treating us so ill, again became friendly, and the
remainder of our voyage proceeded swiftly and favourably under the
magnificent tropical sky: agreeable it was sure to be; for the peculiar
charm of a sail between the tropics is appreciated by all seamen. An old
English captain, with whom I became acquainted during this voyage,
assured me that he could imagine no greater luxury for the remainder of
his life, than to possess a good quick-sailing ship, to keep a good
table, and to sail between the tropics, without ever making land. I
cannot, I confess, altogether participate in this true seaman-like
taste: on my voyages, the mere sight of land has always been my great
source of pleasure. The conduct of a vessel through distant seas, and
through its conflicts with the variable element, is not indeed an
uninteresting occupation; but the object which has always chiefly
attracted my inclinations, is an intimate knowledge of various countries
and their inhabitants; and I have always considered the time spent at
sea, as a necessary hardship submitted to with this reward in view.
Perhaps I was not born for a sailor: an accident, by no means calculated
upon in my previous education, made me such in my fifteenth year.
We sailed in the night past O Wahi, the principal of the Sandwich group,
with its celebrated giant mountain Mou-na-roa. At break of day on the
13th, we saw in the west the elevated island of Muwe, and continued our
course along the northern shore of this and its neighbour Morotai, to
Wahu, where we intended to land. The landscape of a tropical country is
always pleasing, even when, as here, high lava hills, and masses of
sometimes naked rocks piled like towers upon each other, form the
principal features of the coast, at first inspiring the navigator with
doubts of its fertility. But how agreeably is he surprised, on reaching
the southern shores of these islands, to meet with the most smiling
scenery, and most luxuriant vegetation. In the middle of the channel,
between the islands Muwe and Morotai, lie two small uninhabited islands,
which, strange to say, are not marked on Vancouver's map. We took some
pains to ascertain their exact situation.
At four o'clock in the afternoon, the high yellow rock which forms the
eastern point of the island of Wahu, became plainly visible above our
horizon. We could not reach the secure harbour of Hanaruro, which lies
on the southern side of this promontory, before nightfall, and therefore
thought it advisable to lay-to between the islands Wahu and Morotai. In
the morning, after doubling the conical mountain called the Diamond
Mountain, we suddenly came in sight of the harbour, containing a number
of ships decorated with the flags of various nations.
I must here make a few remarks for the benefit of such navigators as are
not well acquainted with these waters. Whoever wishes to sail in
between the islands of Wahu and Morotai, must remember, that throughout
the year a strong current always sets here towards the north-west; and
that the eastern point of Wahu should be doubled within the distance of
three miles from the coast; as farther out to sea, calms are very
prevalent here, whilst in the neighbourhood of the land, a fresh breeze
regularly sets, in the morning, from the land, and from noon till
evening from the sea.
Behind its harbour, safely sheltered by the coral reefs, lies the town
of Hanaruro, consisting of irregular rows of dwellings scattered over an
open plain. Here and there among the huts are seen houses built of stone
in the European fashion. The former lie modestly concealed, under the
cooling shade of palm-trees; the latter stand boldly forward, braving
the burning sunbeams and dazzling the eye by their overpowering
whiteness. Close to the shore the fortress rears its strong turreted
walls in a quadrangular form, planted with cannon, and bearing the
striped national flag of the Sandwich Islands. The country above the
town rises in an amphitheatre, planted with tarro-root, sugar-cane, and
banana, and the view to landward is bounded by precipitous mountains
invading the clouds, and thickly overgrown with fine trees. In this
beautiful panorama we see at once that the island of Wahu deserves the
appellation it has acquired,--of the garden of the Sandwich Islands.
As we approached the harbour, I made the usual signal for a pilot, and
we soon after saw a boat of European construction making towards us; it
was rowed by two naked _Kanachas_, as the lower class of people are here
called, the pilot sitting at the rudder in an European dress. When he
came on board, I recognised him for the Englishman, Alexander Adams, who
on my former voyage in the Rurik had commanded the ship Kahumanna,
belonging to King Tameamea; he was now chief pilot. The wind did not
immediately allow us to run into the harbour, but in a few hours it
became favourable, and our skilful pilot guided us safely through the
intricacies of its narrow entrance. Our ship was the largest that had
ever passed through this channel, which would be impracticable for
first-rate vessels.
Some of the ships we found in the harbour were English and American
whalers, which had put in here for provisions; others were on trading
voyages to the north-west coast of America for skins, or returning
thence with their cargoes. Some were from Canton, laden with Chinese
produce, which finds a good market in the Sandwich Islands; and one was
a French ship from Bordeaux, which having carried a cargo of iron wares
to Chili, Peru, and Mexico, had brought the remains of it here. All the
captains visited me in the hope of hearing news from Europe; but many of
them had left it later than we had, and accommodated us with their
London newspapers.
If we consider that scarcely fifty years have elapsed since these
islands were first introduced by Captain Cook to the knowledge of the
European public, and that the inhabitants were then completely what we
call savages, that is, that they were wholly destitute of any conception
of the arts, sciences, or habits of civilized life, we shall find with
surprise that the harbour of Hanaruro already bears a character almost
entirely European, reminding us only by the somewhat scanty clothing of
the natives, of the briefness of their acquaintance with our customs.
My readers, I think, will take some interest in a short account of this
people, whose rapid progress in civilization would perhaps by this time
have placed them on a level with Europeans, if unfavourable
circumstances had not thrown obstacles in the way of their improvement,
which it will require another such governor as Tameamea to overcome.
The eleven islands named by Cook after his patron, the Earl of Sandwich,
but for which the natives have no common appellation, lie between the
nineteenth and twenty-second degrees of north latitude. They are all
high and volcanic. O Wahi, the most easterly, and by much the largest,
is eighty-seven miles long and seventy-five broad: it has three
mountains, which may well bear a comparison with the highest in the
world. The climate of these islands is particularly beautiful and
healthy. Their population is estimated by Captain King at four hundred
thousand; whose colour, form, language, and manners, testify their
relationship with the other islanders of this great ocean, though they
have very little knowledge of them. Their earliest history consists of
traditions of truths interwoven with fables, which ascend to the first
peopling of the islands, and are not yet embodied in the relation of any
voyage. I have collected them carefully from the accounts of the most
distinguished and intelligent man in Hanaruro, my friend Karemaku, a
Spaniard named Marini, who had long resided here, assisting as
interpreter.
According to a belief not long ago universally prevalent, the mighty
spirit Etua-Rono reigned over these islands before they were inhabited
by men. Ardently desirous of seeing his country peopled, he was
melancholy, and shed torrents of tears on the mountain Mou-na-roa,
because he had no offspring; and his loving wife, the beautiful goddess
Opuna, was not in a situation to console him. At length Fate heard his
prayers. On the south-east point of the island of O Wahi two boats were
stranded, having on board some families, who brought with them hogs,
fowls, dogs, and several edible roots. To the present day are the first
footsteps of man on this land to be seen. Rono was at that time absent,
catching fish on the northern islands for his wife. The fire-god, his
subject, unpropitious to man, taking advantage of this circumstance,
made an effort to repulse the new-comers. He approached them with
terrible gestures, and asked whence they came. They answered--"We come
from a country which abounds in hogs, dogs, cocoa-nuts, and bread-fruit.
We were overtaken by a violent storm when on a voyage to visit some
neighbours; and the moon changed five times before we reached this
land." They then begged permission to remain, which the fire-god cruelly
refused, and continued inexorable, although they offered to sacrifice a
hog to him.
Rono, however, observing that a strange smell proceeded from O Wahi,
suddenly returned, and was greatly surprised at the sight of the men.
Encouraged by his friendly deportment, they made their petition to him,
relating the harsh treatment they had endured from the fire-god. Rono,
enraged at this intelligence, threw the fire-god into the crater Kairuo,
on the side of the mountain Mou-na-roa, where he still chafes in vain.
The men now lived tranquilly on O Wahi, increased in numbers, and
sought, by great sacrifices, to prove their love and thankfulness to
their protector, Etua-Rono. To his honour were established the solemn
yearly games called Makahiti, in which whoever obtained the victory in
running, wrestling, and warlike evolutions, was crowned with a verdant
wreath and presided as king over the ensuing feast.
The other islands were gradually peopled from O Wahi; the number of the
gods also increased; but they all remained subject to Etua-Rono.
Mankind had enjoyed a long period of peace and content under the
beneficent protection of Rono, when their happiness was suddenly
disturbed by a distressing occurrence. The goddess Opuna, the beautiful
consort of Rono, degraded herself by a clandestine connexion with a man
of O Wahi. Her husband, furious on the discovery of his wrongs,
precipitated her from the top of a high rock, and dashed her to pieces;
but had scarcely committed this act of violence when, in an agony of
repentance, he ran wildly about the islands, bestowing blows and kicks
on every one he met. The people, astonished at this frantic behaviour of
the god, enquired the reason of it; on which, with the bitterest
expression of grief, he exclaimed, "I have murdered her who was dearest
to me!" He bore the remains of Opuna into the Marai on the Bay of
Karekakua, and there remained a long time sunk in the deepest grief. At
length he determined to quit the islands, where every thing reminded him
of the happiness he had enjoyed with his beloved wife. The people were
overwhelmed with sorrow by the communication of his intention; and he
endeavoured to console them with the promise that he would one day
return on a floating island, furnished with all that man could desire,
and make his favourite people happy. He then embarked in a vessel of
peculiar construction, and set sail for a distant country.