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 encyclopaedia 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.

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