On Saturday, April 11, we left Kaawaloa, after a very pleasant visit of

two weeks, starting about nine o'clock on our twelve miles' ride to

Kailua. Mr. Paris's family and grandma were in a carriage, which some

friends had given Mrs. P., and grandpa and I were on horseback. I had

my horse Bonaparte. The road was good most of the way; no carriage had

ever traveled the whole length of it before. Part of the way was down

the mountain, and when about half-way to the foot, a part of the

carriage broke. We all dismounted and took a lunch, then, with some

leather, Mr. Paris bound up the broken place firmly, and we went on our

way rejoicing that no worse thing had befallen us; for we were far away

from any house, and had still half of our journey to perform, and this

being the only carriage on that part of the island, no native knew how

to repair it. On reaching the sea-shore, we passed through a grove of

cocoa-nut trees. Here we drank some delicious cocoa-nut milk, and quite

a group of natives gathered about us, and shook hands. The Hawaiians as

a race are very fond of shaking hands. As the shake of the hand, saying

"aloha," love to you, was often our only mode of expressing our

interest, we were very particular to do it.

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

[Illustration: PAHOIHOI.--Page 129.]

After leaving the grove, the path lay between two stone walls, so near

together that it seemed impossible for the carriage to go through. Our

native friends said among themselves "_pilikia!_" trouble; for there was

no other road for the carriage. But the carriage did pass, the wheels

just grazing the stones. How glad we were, and the natives exclaimed,

"_maikai!_" good.

We saw a great deal of rough hard lava, called "pahoihoi," and prickly

pear-trees grew in abundance. They were large, ugly plants. Grandma gave

me one of their flowers which looks like a cactus-blossom. I had on a

heavy buckskin glove, and this was filled with small barbed thorns,

which, before I knew it, had worked through into my hand, as I held the

rein. They caused no little pain, but were so small and colorless that

you could not see them. In some places the people use the prickly pear

as hedges, which are unsightly but very strong. We often saw the

century-plant while on the islands, which, it has been said, blooms only

once in one hundred years; but in fact it blossoms at least once in

twenty-five years. The stalk of the flower grows very rapidly. Some of

these stalks are twenty or thirty feet high. I examined one which seemed

to be casting its blossoms; they looked like small bulbs just sprouting.

If these are planted, they will grow, and this is the way the plant is

propagated.

We were amused at the excitement of many of the natives about the

carriage. A great number of them had never seen one before. Whole

families turned out, men, women, and children, just as people in our own

land once did to see a railroad car, or as they do now to see a caravan

with elephants and camels. Horses and mules all along the road became

unmanageable. They would turn and look, with dilated nostrils and head

erect, while trembling in every limb, till the carriage almost reached

them, then they would break from their fastenings and gallop off,

neighing with fear. Then they would turn and look till we nearly reached

them again, when they darted away as before.

We reached the house of Mr. Thurston, at Kailua, about three o'clock in

the afternoon. It had a very desolate look, for it had been locked up

for a year. The venerable missionaries were then in California, on

account of the failure of Mr. T.'s health. There was no white face to

greet us, as at the other mission-stations, so we made ourselves as

comfortable as possible. Several natives called to see us, and a

venerable deacon sent us two fowls, some very fine watermelons, and

sweet potatoes. The melons were delicious, the soil of this part of the

islands being well adapted to them. Watermelons are even sent to the

San Francisco market.

The next day was Sabbath, the 12th of April, the forty-third anniversary

of the missionaries first landing on these islands, which occurred on

this very spot. We were interested in the fact that we should happen to

be there at that time.

We went to the stone church, a venerable edifice built in the old

style,--the pulpit and galleries being very high. Perhaps a thousand

natives were present, and they paid remarkable attention to all that was

said. After service, we shook hands with a large portion of the

audience. Most of the people came on horseback, and there must have been

as many as five hundred horses tied outside the church.

It was too far for us to go home before the afternoon service; so we

spent the time in visiting the graves of mission families near the

church. In the afternoon we partook of the communion with the

congregation. Every thing was conducted with great propriety. A native

evangelist has had the care of this church since Mr. T. left, and they

have well sustained their church and prayer-meetings, with very little

outside aid from missionaries.

We expected the steamer to call for us at any time after midnight, and

so slept with one eye and one ear open. About twenty asses were in a

pasture near us, and were braying all night long. We had little

refreshing sleep, and were glad to see the smoke of the Kilauea as she

came round a point in the distance at six o'clock in the morning. We

wended our way to the beach, and amused ourselves by watching little

native children playing in the water, and by picking up shells, until

the boat came to take us on board the steamer, when we bade our friends

good-by. As there was no wharf, a native took us up one by one and

carried us to the boat. It seemed so funny at first for us grown people

to be taken up like children; but we got accustomed to it, the men

lifting us easily, and placing us in the boat as dry and comfortable as

possible. By three o'clock in the afternoon we were off Honoipu, where

we were to disembark. This is the landing for Kohala. Mr. Bond met us,

and a kind German was there with his wagon to take grandma and the

baggage to Mr. B.'s house. The rest of us went on horseback. Before

grandpa mounted his horse, the natives gathered about him, and asked by

an interpreter how old he was. They said, "his face and his form was

young, but his hair was old." They expected to see an old decrepit man,

and were quite surprised to find him so fresh and vigorous. We started

on a brisk canter over a good road. My horse was unfortunate in his

disposition, and would sometimes run across the road to kick another.

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

Perhaps he had the same feeling that a little boy has, when he races

with another boy. The latter runs a little faster perhaps, and the boy

that is behind tries to hinder or tease him in some way, so that he may

lose the race. I suppose my horse didn't want the other to pass him, and

so tried to kick him.

The trade-wind swept across that part of the island with great force. It

really seemed as if we would be blown off our horses, and I was glad

that my hat-strings were sewed on tightly. After a while, a sudden

shower came up, lasting about five minutes; but the wind soon dried us.

Another and heavier one making its appearance in the distance, we turned

off the road to go a shorter way. Mr. Bond was mounted on a large white

mule; as we were galloping hastily along over the grassy field, his

mule stumbled, and over they went. All we could see was the mule's four

feet in the air. Fortunately, Mr. Bond was not under the animal, as we

feared, but rose from the soft grass a few feet ahead uninjured. The

shower came steadily on, and we were obliged to take refuge in a native

hut. The natives ran out, took off our saddles, and tied our horses for

us, so that we might escape the shower. They were always ready to do a

kind act for us. As I sat in the hut with two women and a pretty little

native girl about three years old, I longed to be able to talk with them

in their own language; but after each of us had said "aloha," we could

only sit and look at each other.

Grandma and Mrs. Bond with her children were waiting on the piazza to

meet us as we rode up. But there is the tea-bell, so we must wait until

to-morrow to hear about Kohala.

XIV.

Kohala and Waimea.

"We are ready to hear about that queer-named place now, aunty," said

Alice at my elbow as I sat writing in my room.

Oh, yes, about Kohala.

* * * * *

Every thing at Mr. Bond's was the pink of neatness, and though we were

shut in by rain for five days, we enjoyed it. Sometimes, it would look

like clearing up, and we would walk in the garden; but usually we had to

hurry in to escape the rain.

The garden looked beautifully, with some rose-bushes twenty-five feet

in circumference, and scarlet geraniums perhaps fifteen feet. It does

one good just to look at them, after seeing only our little dwarf shrubs

at home. Kanoa and his wife, the good Hawaiian missionaries to

Micronesia, came with their little baby to bid us good-by.

We had mangoes for the first time at Mr. Bond's, which were delicious.

In shape they are like a pear, only flatter, with the large end growing

next the stem. I can not describe the taste, it is unlike any thing we

have. The seed is very large, being nearly two thirds the size of the

fruit. Fresh figs, too, we tried for the first time, and to our surprise

liked them. We had some papaias, which grow on trees; the fruit tastes

like a musk-melon, and pies made of them are very much like squash-pies.

Sabbath morning it cleared up about eleven, so that we could go to

church. Notwithstanding the weather, a goodly congregation assembled,

and listened to grandpa with great respect and attention. After meeting,

as usual, they all wanted to shake hands with us. As I was going down

the aisle, thinking I had shaken hands with all, I heard some one call

"keika mahine, keika mahine" [daughter, daughter], and looking round,

there was an old man standing up on a seat with his hand stretched out

to shake hands. Of course I must gratify him. Fortunately for us,

Monday, April 20, was a pleasant day, and we started about nine o'clock

for Waimea across the mountain. Grandma rode about twelve miles in Mr.

Christianson's wagon, and then as the wagon-road ended, she went the

remainder of the way on horseback. The rest of us were in the saddle all

the way. How the wind did blow! It seemed as if I should be carried out

of my saddle bodily; but we rode on over fields and barren wastes, and

through steep and rocky gulches. At noon we reached the house of a

foreigner, and were hospitably entertained. Mr. Lyons was waiting for us

there, and Mr. Bond left us. What was more to us than dinner, was a

feast of home letters, which Mr. Lyons had brought for us. After resting

an hour or more, we were all in our saddles again. As we were riding, on

the summit of a hill, or mountain as we should call it, a beautiful

scene opened before us. High above us the fleecy clouds parted, and we

caught a glimpse of what seemed like "the promised land." There stood

the peak of a lofty mountain covered with newly-fallen snow, shining

white and beautiful in the sun's clear beams. It seemed too high up, too

pure and fair in its framework of clouds, to belong to earth. This was

the summit of Mauna Kea, and we shall not soon forget that vision of

beauty. It seemed as if angels might flit over its snowy sides without

any danger of soiling their pure white garments. We arrived at Mr.

Lyons's about five, and were cordially met by Mrs. L. and her daughter.

On Wednesday, we attended a meeting at Mr. Lyons's church. The house was

filled with nicely-dressed natives. Grandpa and Mr. L. sat in front of

the pulpit. At the back of the church was a large choir of men and

women, who sung well and with animation, beating time with their hands.

Soon after we entered, they sung an original hymn by a native named

Lyana, which the choir sung to the tune of "Hendon."

"Nani ke aloha la!

Me ka olioli pu

I ka malihini hou--

E aloha, aloha oe.

"Holo oia a maanei,

Mai Amerika mai no,

Eia no! ua komo mai--

E aloha, aloha oe.

"A, ma keia la maikai,

Hui aloha pu kakou,

Ma ka Luakini nei;

E aloha, aloha oe.

"E hauoli, oli pu,

E na hoahanau a pau,

Kane, wahine, keiki no,

E aloha, aloha oe.

"Na ia nei i hoouna mai

I na misioneri nei,

E ao mai ia kakou nei;

E aloha, aloha oe.

"E ala, oli kakou pu,

A kokua aloha no

Ka makua o kakou;--

E aloha, aloha mau."

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

this translation:

"Wonderful that love sincere!

Great our joint rejoicings here,

For the stranger guest we see;

Cordial welcome, friend, to thee.

"Sailing far to reach our homes,

From America he comes;

Lo! in peace he enters here;

Welcome to our hearts sincere.

"Now on this delightful day,

We, in love, unite to pray:

Here beneath our temple spire,

We our welcome give thee, sire.

"Jointly chanting, now rejoice;

Brethren, all unite your voice;

Husbands, wives, and little ones,

Greet this friend with grateful tones.

"This is he who hither sends

These true missionary friends,

To enlighten our dark mind;

Thanks and love to one so kind.

"Let us then all rise and sing,

And our grateful succor bring;

For our sire our love to prove,--

Love, good-will, unceasing love."

Grandpa then made an address, and told them about the missions in

Western Asia. Then Kanoa, the missionary to Micronesia, made a prayer;

after which, he and his wife sung a Micronesian hymn. Grandpa told them,

in another short address, about the India missions. Mr. Lyons then arose

and spoke about his own mission, and introduced his senior deacon,

Timotao Nalanipo, who made a speech in Hawaiian. Mr. Lyons translated

it, and I will read you the translation.

"The church-members of the highlands of Waimea, the old men, the aged

women, the strong men, the youth and children tender, through me, their

salutation to you, the secretary, your companion, and daughter. Great,

indeed, is our joy in being permitted to see you, to welcome you to our

land. You have been sent by the learned Missionary Society of great

America, as its delegate, to see the works of the gospel heralds you

have sent to us.

"We, the ancient men of Kamehameha's time, were once idolaters,

murderers, guilty of infanticide, polygamy, and constantly quarreling

one with another. On the death of Kamehameha, the kingdom devolved on

his son Liholiho. He abolished idolatry, broke the tabus; men and women

for the first time ate together, and the temples and gods were burned to

ashes.

"Still we lived on in poverty and darkness, and in secret worship of

idols, and were without the knowledge of the living and true God. Men,

women, and children were promiscuously devoted to the most sordid

pleasures, heathenish dances, and revelries, day and night. In the year

1820, the missionaries, Mr. Bingham and company, came to these islands

to proclaim the blessed gospel to us, who knew not God, nor had heard of

the death of Jesus, the Messiah, the Saviour of the world. It was you,

the Missionary Society you represent, that loved us, and sent the good

missionaries to our dark land.

"The king and his premier allowed the missionaries to dwell with us to

introduce a new order of things; to teach us first the twelve letters of

the alphabet, then spelling, then reading and writing.

"During the forty-three years the missionaries have resided on the

islands, much seed has been sown, much labor performed, and wonderful

have been the results. We were once all dark, buried in darkness, sunk

to the lowest depths of ignorance, roaming about the fields and woods,

like wild beasts, without clothing, our naked bodies most shamefully

exposed and blackened by the sun, without books, without Bibles, without

Christianity, plunging into the darkness of hell. Now we are clothed,

like civilized beings; we are Christianized; we are gathered into

churches; we are intelligent; we are supplied with books, Bibles and

hymn-books; and are living for God and for heaven; and this through the

labors of the missionaries you have sent us.

"Our joy is inexpressible in seeing you; and we beg you to carry back to

your associates, to the Missionary Society, to all the American churches

connected with it, the warmest salutations of the churches of Waimea and

Hamakua."

This good old man has since died, and gone, doubtless, to be with his

Lord whom he so long loved and served.

At the close of the Hawaiian address, another original native hymn was

sung, composed by Samuela, and sung to the tune of "Farewell, farewell

is a lonely sound."

"Auwe; auwe; aloha la

Ka malihini hou

Ma keia la hauoli nei

Ua hui pu kakou.

"Auwe; auwe; aloha la

Ka malihini hou

A eia la ua komo mai

Ka luakini nei.

"Auwe; auwe; aloha la

Ka malihini hou

A na ia nei i hoouna mai

Na misionari nei.

"Auwe; auwe; aloha la

Ka ekalesia nei

Kane, wahine, kamalii

Kokua pu kakou.

"Auwe; auwe; aloha la

Ka makua a kakou

Aloha a mahalo pu

Ka malihini hou."

Mr. Lyons translated it for us:--

"Oh! oh! we'll welcome you, sire,

The stranger we now greet.

This is a gladsome day, sire;

For we together meet.

"Oh! oh! we'll welcome you, sire,

The stranger of whom we've heard;

Lo! now with us you enter here,

This temple of the Lord.

"Oh! oh! we'll welcome you, sire,

The stranger to our land;

'Twas you who loved and sent to us

The missionary band.

"Oh! oh! we'll welcome you, sire,

Say all the brethren here,

Men, women, and the children, sire,

Unite in love sincere.

"Oh! oh! we'll welcome you, sire,

Our father and our friend;

Our best respects and wishes has

This stranger to our land."

After this was sung, we shook hands with nearly all in the church. Many,

to our embarrassment, brought little tokens of good-will in money,

amounting in all to ten dollars. With this we bought Hawaiian Bibles to

be distributed among the people. Imagine a man, coming up to shake

hands, but stopping before he did it diving his hand into the pocket of

his pantaloons, taking out a quarter of a dollar and laying it on the

table, then shaking hands as if he had paid for it! They have, however,

none of that feeling.

The tea-bell! the tea-bell!

XV.

Maui.

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

So I commenced.

* * * * *

We left Waimea on the morning of April 23, and rode on horseback to

Kowaihae, a distance of twelve miles; there we were to take the steamer

Kilauea.

On our way down to the shore we visited a heiau [hay-ow], or heathen

temple. It was built by Kamehameha I. at the time he was going over to

conquer Maui [Mow-e]. This was the last temple built on Hawaii. All the

inhabitants of the island, men and women, were commanded to come and

help build it, and none dared to stay away. It is about two hundred feet

square, twenty-five feet high, and as many feet thick, of solid stone,

just like a massive wall. Within we saw where the sacrifices were laid

overnight, and the pit where they were thrown in the morning,--a place

called by the natives hell.

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

Human beings,--generally lame or maimed persons. Before Kamehameha I.

left for the conquest of Maui, thirteen human sacrifices are said to

have been offered on this altar to insure him success.

After being hospitably entertained by a son of Judge Allen at Kowaihae,

we went on board the steamer about eight o'clock in the evening, and

soon Hawaii was left behind in the darkness. We had finished our tour of

that island, and saw it no more.

We had a rough night, and did not arrive at Kalepolepo, Maui, until

twelve o'clock. We went on shore in a high wind, and landed in a storm

of sand.

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

Just what I say,--a storm of sand. The wind was so strong that the very

sand was blown up in our faces with such force as to make the skin

tingle.

Mr. Alexander met us, and we started in this same storm and high wind

for Wailuku, ten miles distant, where he resides. Even the gentlemen had

veils over their faces, and hats tied on with handkerchiefs. The air was

so thick with sand that we could hardly see, but we pushed bravely on.

We were all on horseback, our baggage coming on more slowly in an

ox-cart.

We had just got within sight of Mr. Alexander's house, having only a

ride of perhaps ten minutes before us, when, to our dismay, there came

a deluge of rain. My veil in a moment became like ground glass, the

water making it impossible for me to see through it. Of course I could

not guide my horse, but he followed the rest of the company; and glad

indeed were we to change our soaked garments for others kindly furnished

by the mission family, and thankful that our baggage did not arrive

until after the shower was over, so that it escaped getting wet.

The next day we had a visit from many native men and women, who brought

their gifts of eggs, onions, cabbages, fowls, and melons. They all

seemed so genuinely happy to see us that it was a pleasure to meet them.

On the Sabbath we attended church all day, with a well-dressed and

decorous congregation of Hawaiians. They had a melodeon and a very good

choir. Mr. Alexander told us that six of the choir could play on the

instrument, and they all take turns, one playing in the morning, another

in the afternoon. They hired a teacher to come over from Lahaina once or

twice a week. This they planned entirely among themselves, I believe.

Monday morning we made up a party to go into Iao [E-ah-o] valley. We

were all on horseback,--nine of us,--and a happy company we were. The

valley was so narrow that we crossed a swollen and rapid mountain stream

five times. The ascent the last part of the way, before reaching the

plateau, was very steep. But oh, what a magnificent valley we were in!

It was about three miles long, and from one to two broad, while all

around us, excepting the side we entered, were precipices from four to

six or seven thousand feet high, in many instances perpendicular. It was

a grand sight, to be remembered for a lifetime.

We dismounted from our horses, and the younger portion of the company

rambled in the woods in search of tree-shells.

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

They are snail-shells. I think I was told that over a hundred varieties

are found on the islands, every valley and each hundred feet of

elevation having a different species. We used to notice the kind of tree

that seemed to have the most, and then searched for that tree. They

prefer the under sides of the leaves; so we would peer up in the

branches, and when we found one, would pick it off and drop it in our

pocket-handkerchief. After we were tired of "shelling," we came back to

where our elders were quietly chatting, and had a nice picnic lunch,

sitting on the grass, with fern-leaves for plates. What a sight was

before our eyes!--these majestic works of God rising thousands of feet

above us, apparently resting in clouds!

Towards the entrance of the valley is a very peculiar peak, called "The

Needle," from its being so sharp and pointed. I wanted very much to

sketch it, but started off without my materials; however grandpa had a

note-book and pencil, and I knew that he would be willing to give me a

leaf; but while we were off shelling, he left the valley and went back

to Wailuku with Mr. Alexander, they having no time for picnicking; so

what was I to do? Some of the lunch had been wrapped in white paper,

which I smoothed out, and relied on some of the party for a pencil. When

we got opposite "The Needle," I stopped my horse, and prepared myself

for sketching, but not a pencil could be found among all the party. What

do you think I did? I took a pin, and pricked the outline, and places

where the heavy shading was to be, and after I got home drew the

picture. This "Needle" has an historical interest. You remember I told

you that the heathen temple near Kowaihae was built by Kamehameha I.

before he left for the conquest of Maui. It was in this Iao valley that

the people of Maui met the king's forces. A band of warriors with their

families took refuge on this "Needle," which is accessible at such

places only as could be easily defended against a large number. The

enemy tried to starve them out, but failed. They then made believe they

had left the valley, but at night hid themselves on the banks of the

mountain stream where the warriors would go down to drink. As these poor

deluded people came to quench their thirst, they murdered them all, men,

women, and children. The stream flowed red with blood for two hours.

That was heathen warfare, cruel and bloodthirsty, and this was the last

battle fought on Maui; for the island became subject to the rule of

Kamehameha I.

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

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

At six o'clock Wednesday morning, we started on horseback for Maanea's

Landing, seven miles off, on the opposite side of the bay from

Kalepolepo, expecting to take a whale-boat to Lahaina; but no whale-boat

was there, so we had to return, bag and baggage, to Mr. Alexander's. We

rode back the distance of seven miles in an hour, which we thought was

doing very well, as grandma kept her place in the cavalcade all the way.

We passed over miles of land desolated by a waterspout which broke on

the mountains, rolling down a flood of water with vast quantities of

earth and stone into the valley below.

"What is a _waterspout_?"

It is a sort of whirlwind at sea; a body of water is caught up by the

wind, sometimes joining the cloud above it, and rolling on until it

meets with some obstacle, when it breaks, and washes away houses and

trees, or anything movable. It will sink a ship if it strikes it.

The next morning we went down again to the shore, and were more

successful, for the boat was there waiting for us. As the wind was fair,

the boat-boys raised their sail, and we danced over the waves swiftly

and merrily. After an hour's easy sailing, the wind left us, and our men

took their oars for a two hours' rowing to Lahaina. For a part of the

time we passed through shallow water over a coral reef, where we could

look down upon forests of coral, shaped like branches of trees, white,

or tinged slightly with red or green. It was a beautiful sight, and I

longed to get some to bring home. We came safely through the surf.

Lahaina looks beautifully as you approach it from the sea. It has some

very pretty houses, and they seem to be embowered by cocoa-nut and other

trees, so that the whole scene is more tropical in its appearance than

any other place on the islands. We landed at the same spot where we had

done six weeks before, and found our friends all ready to greet us,

having seen our boat approaching. Our three hours' sail had been a very

pleasant one, and the only sail we had had in a whale-boat.

After dinner, without stopping to rest, we mounted our horses, and sped

up the hill to Lahainaluna, a distance of two miles, over a hot, dusty

road, to attend the examination of the native seminary or college there.

Most of the services were conducted in an unknown tongue, but the

answers were prompt, and seemed to be in most instances satisfactory.

After sitting and hearing recitations for about three hours, we left,

and visited some of the rooms of the students. They looked very neat and

clean, many of them having gay patchwork quilts on their beds, and quite

a number of them had our illustrated newspapers pinned on the wall, with

their favorite general occupying a conspicuous place.

The first of May was commencement day. The exercises were held in the

church at Lahaina. We went down about nine. The alumni walked in a

procession to the church, and were a fine-looking, intelligent set of

men. The addresses were very creditable. The audience were attentive and

quiet, and were well-dressed. The singing was very good,--Hawaiian words

set to some of our familiar college tunes, which were sung with a great

deal of spirit.

After the exercises in the church, the alumni had a dinner in the yard

of the church, under a grove of cocoa-nut trees. The foreign guests were

honored with a table by themselves, and were served by students. At the

end of the table was a pig roasted whole, stuffed with greens, baked

with hot stones in one of their ovens in the ground. This dish they call

"luau" [lu-ow]. Besides whole pig, they had other pork, veal, poi,

bread, cake, and cocoa-nut water. The whole dinner was well-served, and

the white guests showed their appreciation of the good things by making

a hearty dinner.

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

XVI.

Lahaina--Kauai.

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

* * * * *

We started soon after the alumni dinner, and rode down towards the

beach, where we saw the American consul's residence, a cozy, thatched

house, then turned off upon a road leading to the hospital. Here is the

finest grove of cocoa-nut trees to be seen anywhere on the group of

islands. Soon after the arrival of the missionaries, they perceived that

no one planted cocoa-nuts, and that there was danger of the trees dying

out. A missionary was talking to a high chief woman, and said to her,

"Why don't you plant cocoa-nuts, so that trees may grow?" "Oh! I shall

never live to eat them," she carelessly remarked. "True," said the

missionary, "you may not live to eat them, but your children may live

and enjoy the fruit."

She thought a few moments; a new idea seemed to have entered that mind

just coming out from the darkness of heathenism into the light of

Christianity. She had been accustomed only to think of herself, and what

she might enjoy. It had never occurred to her that she could do anything

for those who came after her until now, and she said, "It shall be

done;" and within twenty-four hours, a schooner was sent off, which

brought a load of cocoa-nuts, and these were planted where now is that

beautiful cocoa-nut grove.

On returning from this grove, we passed by fields of sugar-cane, and

visited Mr. Spencer's sugar-mill. It was a sweet place, and sticky too!

They have a mill turned by twelve or fourteen mules in spans, which

grinds the cane and presses out the juice. Then there are several vats

in a row, with fires under them, where the juice is boiled. The sugar is

clarified by lime-water; it is then put into round sieves which turn

with great rapidity, and through which the syrup is pressed, leaving a

clean-looking, dry, brown sugar. That is the process as near as I

remember it. They make barrels in the same building, so that the sugar

leaves the mill all ready for exporting.

Lahaina is a very dusty place, the earth is red and sticky. If we stayed

there long, it seemed as if not only our clothes, but we ourselves, must

become copper-colored.

On the Sabbath, May 3, a large assembly met at the church, and grandpa

addressed them. They listened as usual with great attention, and after

the service was over, they all flocked about him, wishing to shake

hands. The communion service was in the afternoon, and all the ministers

present took part. It was an interesting service, natives and foreigners

sitting together around their Lord's table. Several friends in the

mission coming together in the evening, at Dr. Baldwin's house, we sung

hymns for an hour to our dear home tunes. It recalled to some of us our

own loved America and the family circle where in years gone by we had

sung with these friends the same tunes.

On Monday we attended an exhibition of Mr. Dwight Baldwin's native

school. It was very interesting. The dialogues were exciting, even

though in an unknown tongue and spoken by little boys; for they acted

them out thoroughly, seeming to forget the spectators entirely. The

singing was spirited and in good time. There was none of that painful

shyness and hesitation which we sometimes see in our American schools,

and we greatly enjoyed the scene.

Tuesday being our last day in Lahaina, a great many natives came to see

us, bringing little love-tokens,--one or two shells such as they wear

for bracelets, or a pretty wreath of yellow feathers such as are worn

for a necklace. At seven in the evening, attended by quite a cavalcade

of natives and other friends, we went on board the steamer Kilauea, and

soon had our last view of Maui, as we slowly steamed away, and the

darkness came on.

We entered the port of Honolulu at about ten the next morning, having

been absent on our tour of the islands of Hawaii and Maui fifty-eight

days. Our welcome from the friends in Honolulu was very hearty. The

calls upon us commenced as soon as we reached Mr. Clark's, and each day

we dined or took tea or lunched with some one of the mission families.

Saturday morning, May 9, was spent in calling on the old Governor

Kekuanaoa, and his daughter, the Princess Victoria, the father and

sister of the present and late kings. They live in a very pretty-looking

house, with a garden attached to it. The governor has a grapery, and

presented us with some fine bunches of grapes. There were some very long

canoes being made on his premises, consisting each of the trunk of a

tree, scooped out and prettily finished.

Monday afternoon we went on board the little steam-schooner, Annie

Laurie, bound for the island of Kauai [Kow-i]. Hon. R. C. Wyllie was on

board, and a band of music accompanied us for a short distance. Music is

music the world over, but this was the only brass band on the islands.

One of the gentlemen on board was asked, the next morning, how he felt,

and replied, "I feel as if I had swallowed a kitten and a mouse, and the

kitten was after the mouse!"--the best description I have ever heard of

sea-sickness.

We arrived at Hanalei, Kauai, about twelve on Tuesday, and were met on

the beach by the missionaries, Messrs. Johnson and Wilcox, who escorted

us on horseback to the house of the former gentleman. The next morning

we breakfasted at Mr. Wilcox's, then at twelve had a meeting in the

church, where a goodly number of natives were assembled; among them

Kanoa, the governor of Kauai, who afterwards dined with us.

At three o'clock, Mr. Wyllie sent down a boat for our party, to take us

to his estate, called Princeville. It was a delightful row up the river,

the foliage on either bank was the richest and most luxuriant we had

seen. There was hardly a ripple on the water, and no sound was to be

heard but the gentle dip of the oars.

First, we visited the sugar-mill, which is the finest and most

expensive on the islands. There we witnessed the whole process, from the

grinding of the cane to the grained sugar. After that we went up to the

agent's house, and were cordially welcomed by his family, and shown over

the beautiful garden surrounding the house. There was a hedge of lovely

roses, with a profusion of fragrant blossoms. They gave us strawberries,

peaches, pine-apples, and sugar-cane to take with us,--a citron, too,

such as our preserved citron for cake is made of. It looked like an

enormous lemon. Besides this, we had an elegant bouquet of flowers,--a

magnificent fragrant magnolia, that queen of flowers, looking so waxen

with its heavy white leaves, and in beautiful contrast with it the

scarlet pomegranate blossoms: a fair white lily and snowy japonica

completed a bouquet fit for a royal gift.

The view from the piazza is exquisite. Mountains rise peak above peak in

the distance, while a beautiful valley, with its meandering stream,

lies at your feet. Tropical trees and lovely flowers are all around you.

I do not wonder that Mr. Wyllie is proud of Kikiula valley, with its

waving fields of sugar-cane. He called his estate Princeville after the

young Prince of Hawaii, who is now dead.

On Thursday morning, bright and early, we started on our travels again.

The roads of Kauai are better than on any of the other islands. Several

members of the party started a little before the others, and rode up

Kikiula valley through Princeville. After a ride of about two and a half

miles, we dismounted, and ascended a little eminence. What a scene was

before us! Far below was the river with its rapids, the course of which

we could trace down the valley for some distance. Around us were the

mountains, on the left a bluff, and before us the Twin Peaks, with

cascades in the distance. We galloped back, and soon overtook our

cavalcade. We had a fine ride that day through groves of

tropical-looking lohala-trees. Verdant valleys and lovely cascades,

winding streams and wooded precipices, abound. After fording a narrow

arm of the sea, grandma's horse gave himself so violent a shake that the

girth of the saddle broke, throwing both her and the saddle to the

ground. Fortunately, no bones were broken, as where she fell the sand

was quite deep, but she felt the shock for several days. We lunched at

the house of a German, who kept a small store, and then rode on several

miles to Kealia Park, the residence of Mr. Krull, a kind German

gentleman, who hospitably entertained us overnight. Mr. Krull has a

large dairy, which in part supplies the Honolulu market with butter. He

has a well-conducted, elegant, and tasteful establishment; indeed, it

was difficult to imagine that no lady's hand was employed in it. The

grounds about the house are prettily laid out, and two walks lead to a

picturesque summer-house, called "Bellevue," from which one looks off

over an extensive plain to the sea. We slept in a nice grass house, with

matting on the side instead of paper. Familiar engravings adorned the

walls, and the beds, with their pretty muslin mosquito-curtains, looked

inviting enough to the weary traveler.

We saw many kinds of tea-roses, with their delicate tints. The garden

abounded in a variety of vegetables, and we feasted on strawberries

which were hanging on their stems in the morning. Within sight was a

fine bluff extending down to the sea. About fifty feet from the top of

the ledge was a round hole, through which we could see the sky. The

bluff was very steep and thin, and exceedingly bold in its outlines, as

almost all the ranges of hills are here.

But now we must go to tea.

XVII.

Kauai and Oahu.

"Come aunty, come!" said Alice; "Willie and Carrie sent me to call you."

So I went with my little messenger.

* * * * *

We left Mr. Krull's on the morning of May 15, and had a sandy and

uninteresting ride until noon. The only pleasant thing about it, beside

good company, was an exquisite bouquet of beautiful tea-rosebuds, from

our kind entertainer's garden. At noon a carriage met us, kindly sent by

a foreign resident at Lihue, and the older members of the party got into

it. It was a heavily-built English barouche drawn by two horses. Two

native outriders, when a steep hill was to be ascended, attached lassos

to the carriage, which were fastened to their saddles, so that, with the

aid of their horses, the carriage went steadily and quickly over the

ground, and the occupants had the satisfaction of riding in a coach and

four.

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

"What are _lassos_?" asked Alice.

A lasso is a long rope, sometimes made of leather. It is generally used

to catch wild horses or cattle with; but it did excellent service in the

way in which it was used that day.

We arrived at Mrs. Rice's, Lihue, in good season, and stayed there

overnight. We visited another sugar-mill there, and found it like the

others,--a _sweet_ place.

Early on Saturday morning, I started on an excursion to Wailua Falls,

about six miles distant. We rode over field and meadow, when suddenly my

companion reined in his horse, and came for me to dismount. "But where

are the falls?" said I. "You will see soon." A few steps brought me to

the brink of an abyss. What a beautiful scene burst upon my astonished

eye! Right before me was this huge sheet of water, pouring into a dark

circular pool beneath. One side of the fall was heavy, the other so thin

that it seemed as if every drop fell by itself; while covering the black

rocks beneath, as if with emerald velvet, were delicate ferns and

mosses. How pure and fleecy it looked! while far, far below us the river

gleamed like silver through the leaves. The hight of this fall is one

hundred and eighty-six feet, and it is fifty feet broad. Two miles

farther up the river is another fall nearly as high, but divided into

two cascades, one about one hundred feet, the other perhaps seventy.

There is a fine estate not far from the falls that seemed more like an

American country-seat than any I saw on the islands. A large square

house is built upon the edge of what was once an old crater, but which

is now transformed into a fine garden, abounding in flowers. This is a

dairy-farm, and is well kept. Our sixteen miles' ride was performed in

less than three hours, which we thought fast riding, there being no road

most of the way.

We left Lihue at ten o'clock, and rode over to Koloa, ten miles, in the

barouche, arriving there in time for dinner.

After tea the young people of the mission went down upon the beach to

see the "Spouting Horn." Through an underground channel, the waves are

driven in with so much force as to make, through a small hole in the

rock, a fountain forty or fifty feet high, with a sound that is heard

for some distance. There is also a blow-hole, reminding one of the

volcano, and a "boiler,"--a round cavity where the waves sink, and then

suddenly boil over.

On the Sabbath, grandpa addressed the natives in the morning. The

governor of the island of Kauai was present. In the afternoon he

preached to the foreigners. Quite a party came over from Lihue, making a

goodly number in all. Almost all the native churches on the Sandwich

Islands are pretty and neat. The people seem to take a great deal of

pride in them, and keep them in good repair. All are furnished with

bells, so that the sound of the "church-going bell" is heard in every

village.

Monday morning we started for Waimea with a large cavalcade, our friends

wishing to see us safely over the first half of our way. Mr. Rowell, of

Waimea, met us. The country as we neared Waimea grew desolate. They had

had no rain there for a year, and nearly all vegetation had dried up.

Not a blade of grass was seen, and only a few green trees relieved the

eye in that arid region. The reason of the drought is that Waimea is on

the leeward side of the mountains, which are a barrier to the clouds and

rain.

"What is _leeward_?" asked Harry.

On the opposite side from that upon which the wind blows. We were met

with great cordiality by the entire family. "Old Jona" came to see us,

an aged Hawaiian of Kamehameha I.'s time. A very interesting old man he

was too.

The next morning there was a meeting at the church, and grandpa

addressed the natives. "Old Jona" sat in front of the pulpit, and when

anything grandpa said pleased him particularly, he would turn round to

him, smile, and nod his head. It was amusing to observe his evident

enjoyment.

Some of us went down to the beach. The tide was coming in, and the boys

made what they called sandboats. They built a bank in the shape of a

boat, and watched to see the waves wash it away. At length they made a

heavy sand fort, which they called Sumter, that seemed strong enough to

defy the assaults of the water. Wave after wave dashed against and over

it, and finally it, too, disappeared like the others.

In the afternoon we rode up into the valley, where Mr. Rowell's garden

is. There everything was green, in striking contrast with the scene near

his house. We found some nice peaches, and brought home a pretty bouquet

of white roses and nasturtions. The next day, Wednesday, we started for

Koloa. Dr. Smith and party met us at Wahiawa. We stopped to dine at Mr.

Duncan McBride's, a Scotchman's, where we were sumptuously entertained.

After tea at Dr. Smith's, we embarked on the steam-schooner Annie

Laurie, and soon after seven, took our farewell look at the island of

Kauai.

Two nights and a day were spent on the deck of that schooner, with a

chopped sea, a head-wind, and sea-sickness,--a weary, dreary time. We

were somewhat comforted about three o'clock on Friday morning by hailing

the bark Young Hector, just outside of Honolulu harbor; for we knew that

before long home letters would be in our hands, and we had received none

for a month. About five o'clock, our steamer reached the wharf, and we

were soon in our comfortable quarters at Mr. Clark's. About eight

o'clock our letters came.

We had little time for rest; for the next day, Saturday, May 23, we

started on our tour around Oahu.

We saw among the Moanalua hills a curious little salt lake, as salt as

the sea. Here a slight shower dampened our clothes, but not our spirits.

About fifteen miles from Honolulu we stopped at Ewa, where grandpa was

to hold a meeting in the church. Quite a number of natives came, and we

had a pleasant greeting. The lunch was served for us at Mr. Bishop's

house, and we then resumed our journey over a good road, and finished

our ride of thirty-five miles about five o'clock. We stayed at Mr.

Emerson's, Waialua, and had two services in the native language on the

Sabbath. We really enjoyed these meetings with the natives, and

constantly exclaimed, "What hath God wrought!" Only a few years ago,

these islands were in the depths of barbarism and idolatry; now, what a

change! The people are well dressed; in the house of God they are

respectful and attentive, have their own deacons, their own choir, are

intelligent. Most of them can read, and when the text was given out, or

a chapter read, often the Bible would be opened to the place, and they

would follow the reading with great apparent interest.

On Monday the younger members of the party rode to a grove about eight

miles distant to get tree-shells, and brought home quite a number.

Tuesday morning we started for Kualoa. Grandpa and grandma rode in Mr.

Emerson's wagon drawn by two horses; the rest of us were on horseback.

The roads were good, our spirits excellent, and the weather fine; so, of

course, all was well. Mr. Charles H. Judd met us with his double team

about five miles out, and we lunched at Mr. Moffatt's. Mr. Moffatt is an

Englishman, who has here a fine place, and large herds of cattle. He has

a pretty bathing-place near the house, perhaps twenty feet in diameter,

half in sunlight, half in a grotto, with delicate ferns almost hiding

the rock.

There were several peacocks sunning themselves on a wall near the

house; but none of them condescended to spread their beautiful feathers

for us to admire. Before the house are two large stone idols, the only

ones we saw on the islands.

"Are they worshiped, aunty?" asked Alice.

No, they are placed there as curiosities.

Grandpa and Mr. Judd had an engagement, and started before us. Grandma

rode in Mr. Judd's wagon, and we left Mr. Moffatt's about two.

XVIII.

Oahu.

The next day at four, I took my customary seat, surrounded by my little

group, and resumed my narrative.

* * * * *

About ten miles from Kahuku, at Hauula, is a church with a native

pastor,--Mr. Kuaia. We attended a meeting there, and afterward dined at

his house. He is a well-educated and gentlemanly man, and his wife an

interesting woman. They live in a neat grass house, furnished simply but

comfortably in American style. The dinner passed off in a very

satisfactory manner. They had pretty wreaths prepared for us; some were

made of a small orange-colored apple, others of yellow marigolds strung

on a cord. After dinner we rode another ten miles, and were tired enough

with our long day's ride to sleep well.

The next morning we rode over to the house of a friend to see the

lassoing of cattle. The house was on quite an eminence, so that we had a

good view of a level plain before it. A herd of cattle were driven into

the valley, and three gentlemen on trained horses, with lassos in their

hands, each selected their animal, and started in pursuit. It seemed as

if in an instant the creature knew it was hunted, for it would move from

place to place, and then start on a run, endeavoring to elude its

pursuers; but the horseman, never for a moment losing sight of his prey,

galloped on, turning this way and that as the creature did, until near

enough, and then the lasso sped through the air coiling round and round

the poor animal's legs, generally throwing him on his knees. Then the

hunter leaped from his saddle, the intelligent horse standing still, and

the lasso was drawn tighter and tighter until the animal fell on his

side. Finally, a rope was tied round the hind legs, and the work was

done. It was very exciting, as once in a while a horse would stumble and

fall, sometimes throwing his rider; and oftentimes the chase was long,

the animal eluding the hunter's grasp just as he thought he had cornered

him.

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

Yes, I don't doubt that you would have enjoyed it; but I felt so sorry

for the poor cattle that it tired me.

In the afternoon, we young people went on an excursion of about twenty

miles on horseback to see the Falls of Ka Liuwaa. After passing about

eight miles on the beach, we turned up a mountain ravine; two miles more

brought us to the end of our ride. We dismounted and had a lunch,

sitting in the branches of a fallen kukui-tree, and drinking water from

a cup made of a taro leaf. We took off our riding-skirts, threw them

over the saddle, and leaving our horses in the care of a native man,

walked up the narrow gorge, or gulch, as they call it here, seldom more

than one or two hundred feet wide, with precipitous sides rising

sometimes a thousand feet above us. At times we were just on the edge of

the stream, but as often jumping from rock to rock in the very bed of

the brook. Towards the termination of the gorge, is a place in the rock

called "The Canoe," a half-circle gouged right down the precipice as

smooth as if chiseled out, about fifty feet wide, and a thousand feet

deep.

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

There is a story connected with it, as with everything on these islands.

One of their gods was angry with another god, and sought to kill him. I

believe the latter, who was running away, slipped his canoe down the

rock, making the groove I have described, and escaped to the sea.

Soon we came to the fall itself, and here the precipices on each side

were one and two thousand feet high. The fall is about a hundred feet,

running through a narrow gulch from a lake above, and probably never was

seen by a foreign eye. It was a lovely and romantic place. The water

fell into a small, but deep, circular pond. Exquisite varieties of ferns

and mosses grew upon the rocks lining its sides, and no sound was heard

but the plashing of water.

Some of the natives are said to have a superstitious fear of the place,

the remains of their old religion; and the way up was lined with

offerings, consisting of a leaf with a few stones piled on it. I don't

believe they are much afraid, for they laughed if the stones were thrown

over.

The next day we rode on fifteen miles to Kaneohe. Here we met Rev. Mr.

Parker's people. On our way we passed several rice-fields. Rice is grown

in wet places, like the taro. It looks very much like grain as you see

it in the distance, but it is of a very brilliant green.

Early the next morning we left for Honolulu. Soon after we started, our

baggage-horse ran away. One of the bags which he bore got loose and

frightened him. Our horses saw him coming with one bag swinging back and

forth under his body, and began to be uneasy, so we turned them off to

the side of the road, and he rushed past us. The gentlemen and natives

started in pursuit. The poor horse crossed a river, and was finally

caught in a taro-patch. Our bags were torn to pieces, and many of their

contents scattered over the plain; some were wet through or stained with

the green mud from the taro-fields.

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

Almost everything; the poor horse looked sadly jaded and tired, but he

had to carry the baggage the rest of the way.

We rode up a precipitous ascent two or three thousand feet high, by a

zigzag road cut into its sides. The adjacent precipices are some of them

much higher. Over one of these Kamehameha I. drove the defeated warriors

of Oahu, in his last battle on the island. That was savage warfare. The

precipice up which we rode is called "The Pali," or precipice; it is at

the head of Nuuanu valley. The finest approach to it is from Honolulu.

Masses of rock rise high above you on either side, while a beautiful

panorama of hills, valleys, cottages, winding streams, and verdant

plantations all opens to your astonished eye, and bounding the distant

view is the ocean.

Riding down Nuuanu valley, we were again surrounded by our Honolulu

friends. Our tour of the Hawaiian Islands was ended.

The next day, May 30, the steamer Kilauea came into port, bringing

missionaries from the other islands to attend the general meeting

appointed to be held in Honolulu in the month of June.

The meeting opened June 3, and every morning and afternoon there were

business meetings until the 16th, when the examination of Oahu College

at Punahou commenced. It was a fine examination,--the same studies as in

our New England academies. It lasted through two days, and on the third

day there was an exhibition in the evening at the stone church. The

house was prettily decorated, the king lending his royal reception-flag

for the occasion, an enormous banner forty feet long. This was suspended

by the four corners from the ceiling, forming a sort of canopy over the

platform. There were also American, French, British, Spanish, and

Hawaiian flags, together with wreaths, mottoes, and bouquets. The church

was crowded with foreigners and natives. The speeches were good, the

young men doing themselves credit, and the singing was fine; indeed,

there are some superior singers in Honolulu. Commencement ended, as in

our own country, with the president's levee. Everybody seemed to be

present, and to enjoy themselves, and did ample justice to the abundant

collation spread in the college hall. The evening closed with patriotic

songs, and thus ended the college year of 1863.

General meeting was resumed after the exercises at Punahou were

concluded. Almost every missionary was present, and had brought a part

or the whole of his family. The Pastor of the Foreign Church, the

Seamen's Chaplain, President of Oahu College, native pastors and

delegates were all present. It was delightful to witness the harmony

pervading this large body, and to see how strong the Christian and

missionary tie that bound them together. There they sat day after day,

exchanging their opinions, discussing questions, and settling matters of

great importance to them and the people, meeting and praying together,

and it seemed as if the spirit of Christ rested upon them; for no jar or

discord was allowed to enter.

The work of the Lord in those islands is very great. There are now only

67,000 inhabitants, and yet in these forty-three years in which the

mission has been in operation there have been 52,413 converts, and

19,679 are now connected with the churches. Surely, this may be called a

Christian nation. There was another "Cousins' Meeting" on the evening of

June 6th. I wish you could peep in upon one of these gatherings. Thirty

or forty young people together, all united by the missionary tie, the

ladies wearing light or white muslins, with gay belts and sashes,

flowers in their hair, and happy, joyous, faces; the gentlemen with a

rose in their button-hole, in summer dress; windows, doors, and blinds

all open; and after the business of the meeting is over, numerous happy

couples promenading to and fro on the piazza. All this gives a festive

look, and one has a feeling of interest not felt in gatherings in our

own land. At parties there, one never expected a greater variety of

refreshments than cake, coffee, and strawberries; so they can be

conducted without much expense, and little companies are the order of

the day. Then it is so easy getting about; no cold winter snows to

trudge through, no chilling wind to guard against; everybody has a horse

or vehicle of some kind, or his next neighbor has, and is willing to be

neighborly.

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

XIX.

Honolulu again.

Wee little Alice came for me, with her bright face, at four o'clock next

day, to lead me to my accustomed seat in the sitting-room, where my

happy little group were always awaiting me.

* * * * *

The general meeting occupied most of the days until three o'clock, and

we ladies took our sewing and listened to the grave debates. It was an

interesting season to all present.

Half a dozen of us started on horseback one afternoon, to visit Kalihe

valley, one of the beautiful gulches near Honolulu; but when we reached

the entrance of the valley, it rained so that we could not explore its

charms. But we turned off to the residence of an aged blind man, and

rambled in his garden among peach, orange, and mango-trees, and then sat

on the piazza eating mangoes and chatting for an hour. One of the most

valued trees in this whole garden was a little dwarf apple-tree, with

two good-sized apples on it. Those were some of the first ever grown on

the islands, I believe. After our mango feast, we had a brisk gallop

back to the town.

One day we occupied in making wreaths and mottoes to decorate the

schoolhouse, where the annual meeting of the Cousins' Society was to be

held in the evening. Over the middle window, opposite the door, were the

letters "X L C R" [Excelsior], and below were a wreath and festoon,

with pendants intermixed with beautiful flowers. On either side, was

"UNITY, 1852" [when the society was formed], and "HARMONY, 1863." In the

arch of each window hung a wreath of maile, a pretty green vine. Between

each window was a tin candle-stand, trimmed with the vine and flowers.

Over the door were four small American flags intertwined with one

Hawaiian flag. The reports of the officers were read, and various

addresses made, and "Unity" and "Harmony" were the watch-words of the

meeting. We had one more meeting at the schoolhouse, when grandpa

addressed the Cousins, reminding them of the responsibility resting on

them; that as their fathers laid the burden down, they must take it up,

and be to the Hawaiian people a help and support. They answered that

they were ready and willing, and, God helping them, they would try and

be faithful to the people committed to their care.

The last part of our stay in Honolulu we spent at the hospitable house

of Mrs. Chamberlain, one of the oldest buildings in Honolulu. The house

was in a very sunny spot, and was of stone. Pretty little lizards used

to come out of their hiding-places and sun themselves, and I often

watched them as they played about.

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

Oh, no, indeed! they are perfectly harmless. They are very small and

delicate; I seldom saw one more than three or four inches long.

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

No, not one; the only poisonous reptiles are scorpions and centipedes. I

saw only one scorpion. That was at Punahou. I was sitting in the parlor

one day, and saw a small peculiar-looking creature creeping towards me

on the floor. Some movement of mine, made it throw its tail up over its

back; then I knew it was a scorpion; for I had read that the sting was

in the tail, and when frightened, it would throw its tail over its back

ready to strike. One of the gentlemen killed it.

I saw only two live centipedes. They are ugly-looking creatures. One

dreads a close contact with them. They run and twist about as if they

felt they were unwelcome guests.

We had a very pleasant farewell party at Dr. Judd's, where we met

missionary friends and some of the foreign consuls and their wives. Once

more I explored the extinct crater of Punchbowl, this time on horseback,

and admired the beautiful landscape before me when tinged with the

setting sun.

On the afternoon of June 26th, the native women brought us gifts of

tapa, necklaces, corals, etc. It was a suggestion of their own. They

wished us to take home mementoes of them, and had been planning it for

some time among themselves. Some of the necklaces were made of beautiful

yellow feathers. Only two of that color grow on the bird, one under each

wing; so the necklaces are very valuable. Others were made of hundreds

of small braids of human hair, from which is suspended a hook made of

whale's tooth. Those were worn in former times only by chiefs.

My last excursion was a ride round the old crater of Diamond Head. We

rode through the fine, cocoa-nut grove of Waikiki, drinking from its

refreshing fruit, and then cantered along the sea-beach, nearing the

desolate mountain at every bound. Just before we reached its base,--a

narrow belt of sand only separating it from the sea,--a party of

gayly-dressed natives came one by one round a projecting point on the

full gallop. All wore their red and yellow kehaes, or riding-suits.

There were twenty or more of them, and it seemed like a streak from a

rainbow as they flitted by.

The nearer we came to Diamond Head, the more forbidding it looked.

Nothing green is seen upon it; old decaying, crumbling lava extends from

its summit to its base. Beyond the volcano is a very ancient

burying-ground on the sea-shore, and as we rode over it, bones were

often seen. We completed the circuit of Diamond Head, riding a distance

of twelve miles in two hours, and returned quite refreshed by the

excursion.

I then bade adieu to my little horse, who had served me so faithfully

and well. He bore the name of "Shakspeare," though usually called by the

undignified title of Rat. Never did a little horse more deserve a

better name. But then, "What's in a name?"

On Sabbath afternoon, June 28th, Mr. Henry H. Parker, the son of a

missionary, was ordained pastor of the congregation worshiping in the

stone church. The services were very interesting to witness, but were

all in Hawaiian. We had become quite familiar with the native sentence,

"E pule kakou"--"Let us pray." The right hand of fellowship was given by

Rev. Mr. Kuaea, a native minister, and it was an affecting sight to see

those two young men, one white--the other dark-skinned,--clasp hands in

Christian fellowship.

The 30th of June I attended my last "candy-pull." This is a fashionable

amusement there. The candy is made from sugar, and is whiter and less

sticky than molasses.

Saturday, July 4th, opened in quite a patriotic manner with the firing

of thirteen cannon. At ten, we went to Fort Street church, and heard a

fine oration from the pastor, Rev. Mr. Corwin. The church was decorated

with flags. Over the pulpit was laid a very large and elegant American

flag,--a silken banner. It seemed like an American assembly on our

nation's birthday. Early in the afternoon we attended a picnic on the

grounds of Oahu College, Punahou. Those assembled sat in groups on the

grass, while our Declaration of Independence was read. Then they

adjourned to a long tent, under which were two tiers of tables,

abundantly laid with a tempting array of good things, while "the feast

of reason and flow of soul" were supplied by several patriotic speeches

and songs. Thirteen cannon were fired at noon and night, and fireworks

closed the evening. So you see how patriotic Americans are abroad.

July 5th was our last Sabbath in the islands. Grandpa had a farewell

meeting at the stone church in the morning, at which about twenty-five

hundred natives were present. Grandpa bade them good-by, and Judge Ii

[Ee], one of themselves, expressed their farewell. Many crowded round to

say their last "aloha." It really made us feel sad to part from this

interesting people. We longed to labor among them, and continue the good

work so favorably begun.

Monday morning, July 6th, we went on board the bark Comet. Farewells

were said; our visit at these islands was ended; and we were homeward

bound.

What happy memories cluster around that little group of islands in the

Pacific! We received only good deeds and kind words while there. The

houses of missionaries and foreigners were ever opened to us in

hospitality, and the natives were ready with a hand-grasp and a hearty

"aloha."

It is only about forty-three years since the missionaries first went

there, and nobody could read or write, nobody had ever written in their

language, and now--thanks to our heavenly Father and the

missionaries--almost all the natives can do both.

What should we be, if only a little over forty years ago, our parents

had been degraded heathen, knowing nothing of God, wandering about as

naked and as wicked as those poor Hawaiians were? We ought to thank God,

both for them and for ourselves,--for ourselves, because we were not

born thus, and for them, because the light of the gospel and of

civilization has dawned upon them.

XX.

Voyage to San Francisco.

"Now, aunty, tell us about your homeward voyage," said Willie as I made

my appearance in the sitting-room at the usual time. So I began:--

* * * * *

Our voyage was a tedious one, for we had a succession of calms all the

way. It was very discouraging, for we would be sailing with a good

breeze, our sails all filled; then the wind would die away, and the

sails would flap lazily against the mast.

Our captain was patient and good-natured, and so were we. That shows

you the power of example. If the captain had fumed and fretted, and

wondered why we could not have a wind, very likely we should have felt

ill-natured and looked cross too, and have had a very unpleasant time.

As it was, we made the best of our calms, and hoped for a breeze, and

rejoiced even if we were "making haste slowly."

On the ninth day out, we had some variety, for a shoal of fish passed

us, called albacoa; we caught a fine large one. A ship hove in sight,

too, and we thought she had just the name for our calm sailing, the

"All-Serene." She was an English ship, from Sydney, Australia, and had

been sixty days out. She wanted fresh provisions and flour; so our

captain gave her potatoes, bananas, and turkeys. Being so much becalmed

ourselves, our captain did not dare to give them flour, as we might come

short, and they had plenty of hard bread. It quite revived our courage,

for what were our nine days compared with their sixty days? And we had

plenty of provisions and good company.

We saw a great many flying-fish every day. These are small, and have

their forward fins so long that they serve them as wings skimming along

on the surface of the water. They looked very silvery in the sunlight,

and I thought at first they were little white birds.

Several times we saw porpoises, and one day a shoal of whales was in

sight. One big black fellow leaped out of the water; we first saw his

great head, then his fluked tail thrown up in the air, as he dived down

to depths beneath. Some of them were spouting and playing about us, and

one had a young whale with her.

A large shoal of "skip jacks" surrounded the ship one morning; there

must have been thousands of them!

"What are _skip jacks_?" asked Willie.

A pretty blue fish between one and two feet long; they were mostly blue,

but seemed to change to all colors of the rainbow. The men fished for

them with a hook covered with a rag, which the fish were supposed to

imagine a flying-fish, and ten of them were silly enough to be deceived;

so we had a chowder of fresh fish.

The captain had the galley or cook-room cleared up for us one afternoon,

and we boiled sugar for candy. He did everything possible for our

comfort, and often sent in a dish of hot roasted peanuts for us. These

peanuts grew on the Sandwich Islands. We saw the plant, the leaf of

which is very much like a clover-leaf, and the nut grows underground on

the roots like artichokes. Kind island friends had given us a large

supply of bananas and pine-apples; so we had quite a variety on our bill

of fare.

On Tuesday, the 28th of July, we came into water colored and of a

lighter shade than any we had seen. The cause of this is said to be the

immense amount of mud washed down from the gold-diggings through the

Sacramento River; I can not say whether this is true or not. We hoped to

get into San Francisco in time to dine the next day; but a calm

dissipated all such anticipations, and we lay off and on by the

Farallone Islands all the night of the 29th.

We saw a great many diver birds, about the size of pigeons. While

sailing along on the water, they would all at once dive and disappear,

and remain under water a long while.

The Farallone Islands are a small group of rocky islets, lying in the

Pacific Ocean, about thirty-five miles west of San Francisco. There are

two groups of them, the North and South Farallones, about eight miles

distant from each other. The southern islands are the most important.

On the summit of the largest rock, which is about three hundred and

fifty feet high, is a lighthouse. The only person on the island is the

light-keeper. The islands are one vast menagerie. Birds of many

varieties make their home here by swarms, and thousands of sea-lions and

seals cover the rocks.

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

"What are _sea-lions_?" asked Harry.

A species of seal often as large as an ox, and weighing from two to

three thousand pounds each. They make a very loud noise, a sort of

moaning cry, like "yoi hoey, yoi hoey." The young seals are of a dark

mouse color, but the older ones are of a light-brown. At a distance the

braying of these sea-lions sounded like the rumbling of a railroad

train. There is a hole in the rock on one of these islands, where the

air is drawn through with a sound like the whistle of a steam-engine.

Every spot and foothold on these rocks seems to be the abode of a bird

or seal; the waters around swarm with life, while large flocks of birds

are coming from every direction. Vast quantities of eggs are taken from

these rocks and carried to the San Francisco market every year.

We left the Farallones about three o'clock in the morning, and when we

came on deck, they were fading in the dim distance.

One of the first objects noticed as we approached the coast was Fort

Point, where is a massive fortification, well mounted with heavy guns.

Between this point and Lime Point is the celebrated Golden Gate, which

is about a mile wide and is the entrance into the bay of San Francisco.

Connected with Fort Point is a lighthouse and fog-bell; the latter is

always rung during foggy weather.

In the bay just opposite the Golden Gate, and about three and a half

miles from Fort Point, is Alcatraces Island. It commands the entrance

to the great bay of San Francisco. About the center of the island is a

large building which may be used for barracks or a citadel. A belt of

batteries encircles the island, and it seems to be defended at every

point. There is a lighthouse and fog-bell on this island also.

Soon after passing Alcatraces Island, we came to anchor near Mission

Street wharf. We waited for the custom-house officer to come on board.

After a short detention we went down the ship's ladder into a small

boat, and were soon on shore. Half an hour's ride brought us to the Lick

House, and the journey to the Hawaiian Islands was among the things of

the past. Though so far away from home and friends, we were in the

United States, and under our own beloved flag.

We did not forget to thank the Father of mercies for his kind care of us

when on the deep, and beseech him to continue his loving-kindness to us

while in that far-off part of our great country. Friends gathered about

us with their warm greetings, and we soon left the hotel and took up our

abode in a quiet family circle. But our hearts began to hasten our

departure for our eastern home.

XXI.

California.

We took one day a very pleasant drive out to the Cliff House. Opposite

this hotel, which is just on the beach, are some craggy rocks, which are

entirely covered with seals and sea-lions. They are so near that you can

see them playing in the water, which seems to be alive with them, while

their mournful cry echoes in your ears, "yoi hoey, yoi hoey." We took

quite a drive on the beach, and saw many little "Portuguese

men-of-war," which had been washed up on the sand. They are a sort of

stiff jelly fishes, in shape resembling a wafer, with the half of

another wafer set up across the center like a sail. We used to see

thousands of them floating on the water when at sea. It was quite

interesting to watch some little birds, which ran along so swiftly on

the sand that they seemed to glide without any movement of their feet.

They looked brown, but when they flew, their breasts and the under part

of their wings were snowy white; and as their wings vibrated quickly,

the sudden alternation of brown and white had a very pretty effect.

At four o'clock on the afternoon of August 5th, we started for

Sacramento, on the steamer Yo Semite. The steamer was named for a

beautiful valley in California. The first object of interest we passed

was Alcatraces Island, with its circle of batteries; but our chief

attention was bestowed upon the city left behind us and the

shipping,--the larger craft lying at anchor, or changing their position,

and the smaller boats flitting here and there in the bay. Passing

several islands, we entered San Pablo Bay [St. Paul]. The scenery on

either side was interesting, but soon, passing through the Straits of

Carquinez, we were in Suisun Bay, and neared the city of Benicia. An

arsenal, barracks for soldiers, and the works of the Pacific Mail

Steamship Company are located here. While sailing in this bay, we had a

good view of Monte Diablo, a high and lonely mountain which seems to be

the landmark for all the country round. We passed the San Joaquin River,

and soon entered the Sacramento River, a muddy, turbid stream. All the

mud from the mines is washed into this river, and pours down into the

bay, and from thence to the ocean, coloring the water for a long

distance out to sea. We passed by vast quantities of _tules_ or rushes,

which cover the surface of the water for miles. Our arrival at

Sacramento was about midnight, but we remained on board the boat until

morning, and then went to the Vernon House. After breakfast we walked a

short distance up the river to a fine bridge about nine hundred feet

long.

After lunch we took the cars for Folsom, twenty miles from Sacramento,

accompanied by a friend. We passed into the mining district, and at

Folsom took a carriage. It was warm and dusty riding, as there is no

rain in the summer in that section of California. After an hour's ride,

reached Willow Springs, where were the mines we had come to see. This

was an hydraulic mine; that is, it is worked by water. We clambered

about in the excavation, saw the bed rock, upon which there is a layer

of gold-bearing gravel, then one of clay, another of gold-bearing

gravel, then of clay again, and one more of gravel. They play with a

hose on the gravel, and the water and gravel is washed down through long

sluices, the bottom of which is made uneven by blocks of wood placed

across. The bits of gold lodge on the uneven surface. In some places

they cut down the gravel with pickaxes, and wash it in pans. One man

washed out a spadeful of gravel for us, and we brought home a few specks

of gold dust. We returned to Sacramento to dine, and after dinner I rode

out to the Fair grounds, where the great State agricultural fairs are

held. This is the fashionable drive in Sacramento in the afternoon. Here

is a fine drive of a mile, outside of which are stalls for cattle. A

gentleman told us that in 1849 he sold flour for three hundred dollars a

barrel; and bought potatoes for a dollar and a half a pound. That was

when California was first known as a gold country, and so many people

went thither to seek their fortunes.

The next morning, Mr. M., one of our fellow-passengers from New York to

San Francisco took us a delightful drive about the city and suburbs. We

saw the levees, which were erected to save the city from another flood.

"What are _levees_?" asked Willie.

They are heavy banks of earth built along the margin of the stream. The

last flood took place in the winter, on December 9, 1861, and January

10, 1862. The whole city was flooded. The water rose over the table in

the dining-room of the hotel in which we stayed. Houses could be reached

only in boats, and no one knew how soon his dwelling might be undermined

and fall. A great deal of the fertile land about Sacramento was ruined

by the flood, being covered with a deep layer of gravel.

We saw the new capitol which is in process of erection, and a large,

handsome structure it will be. We passed near Sutter's Fort, where it

was first discovered that there were gold mines in this country.

In 1853, the city spread over about as much ground as it now does, when

it was destroyed by fire. The climate of Sacramento is very different

from that of San Francisco, being much warmer. It is so far from the

coast that it escapes the chilling wind that visits the latter city at

certain seasons of the year.

In the afternoon we went on board the steamer Chrysopolis bound for San

Francisco. We went through a slough (or, as the people pronounce it,

_slew_) in the river about seven miles long.

"What is a _slough_?" asked Alice.

There was a long bend in the river, of fourteen miles, so they cut a

sort of canal across it, and half the distance was saved. This canal

they call a slough.

Mr. M. told us that in one of the early years of the gold excitement,

there was an old man who had watermelons that were in great demand,

sometimes selling for five dollars apiece. The next year a great many

people wanted the seed to plant; these were sold for sixteen dollars per

ounce, but not one came up; so they suppose he boiled the seeds before

he sold them! We arrived at San Francisco towards midnight. At noon on

Saturday we took the steamboat for Oakland, which is across the bay from

San Francisco. It took its name from the number of oak-trees growing

there. They give a green and pleasant appearance to the country round.

California College is situated in Oakland.

On Sabbath we had the pleasure in the morning of listening to a sermon

from an old friend, and in the evening grandpa told the people of what

God had wrought through the missionaries in the Sandwich Islands.

Monday morning we were taken a long ride over the country about Oakland.

On our way back, we stopped at Mr. B.'s orchard, and had some very nice

plums, white and purple. There were nectarines, also, which have the

skin of a plum and the stone of a peach; apricots, which have the skin

of a peach and stone of a plum; I never knew the difference in those two

fruits before. We had some delicious peaches, and brought away a branch

of the almond-tree, with the nuts on it, which looked like green

peaches. We then took the Oakland boat and were soon at our home in San

Francisco. California is noted for its fine fruits, and sometimes we saw

baskets of assorted kinds looking like those fine paintings we admire so

much.

On Thursday, August 13, we bade our kind and hospitable California

friends farewell, and went down to embark on the steamer Golden Age.

The kindness of our friends did not end when we left their houses, as

beautiful bouquets and baskets of fruit in our staterooms testified. We

parted from them with regret, for we had received nothing but kindness

from their hands. Farewells were said, and San Francisco soon faded from

our sight. We were again on the restless ocean, but we were _homeward

bound!_

XXII.

Homeward Bound.

"Aunty, aunty, please come and tell us our story," said little Alice;

"we are all waiting. You know this is our last story, for we go home

to-morrow." So down I went.

* * * * *

We were fairly at sea again. Our steamer was a very good one, and we had

pleasant accommodations. Grandpa and grandma had a fine, large

stateroom, and as there were not a great number of passengers, I, also,

had a stateroom all to myself. I had the lower berth taken out, and my

trunks brought up and placed under my berth; then I spread down my rug,

and brought in my deck chair, and my room had quite a cozy, homelike

air; and I took a great deal of comfort in it. The officers on the boat

were very pleasant, and we became acquainted with some of the

passengers.

On Sabbath morning, eight of the younger people met together and formed

a choir, practiced sacred music, and sung in the morning service, when

Rev. Mr. McMonagle preached. In the afternoon we went to the forward

part of the steamer, and grandpa preached to the steerage passengers, on

"Christ in the ship in the storm." The choir sung, and the poor people

looked so gratified and pleased to have preaching and singing that it

did one's heart good.

We used to sing songs almost every evening, and it was very pleasant as

we sat on the quarter-deck looking off on the water. The moon cast her

radiance over the ocean; the white foam, in a long line back, marked our

track; and the brilliant stars, seeming far brighter than they do in our

northern heavens, looked like diamonds in God's firmament. We sailed

along easily and smoothly until the morning of August 30, when we were

wakened early by the rolling of the ship, and found a hurricane upon us.

It was almost impossible to dress, but after being tossed against both

sides of my stateroom several times, I succeeded. What a dismal scene

met my eye as I opened my door! Carpets rolled up, sofas and chairs

piled in together, the marble tops of the tables taken off and lashed to

the floor, skylights leaking, so that we had to choose our footing

carefully, or the slippery floors and the ship's rolling would soon

bring us down to the floor. On every hand crashes were heard from

unlucky lamp-shades, bottles, pitchers, or anything breakable that was

not properly secured. The waves seemed mountain high, and the wind was

so strong that their crests were blown off in spray.

After a while the captain ordered us all below. The scene in the lower

cabin was dismal in the extreme. Passengers--many of them only half

dressed, most of them pale from sea-sickness or fear--all crowded

together on the sofas on one side of the saloon; for the vessel lay over

so that we could sit only on one row of sofas. A dozen people, perhaps,

were leaning over the backs of the sofas at one time, all sea-sick.

Children were crying from hunger or fright. What a scene! We shipped

wave after wave with a shock that made the vessel tremble from stem to

stern. Crash followed crash. At one time the cases filled with dishes in

the pantry gave way, and what a noise of broken crockery! Three enormous

baskets were filled with the pieces. One of the bulkheads was knocked

out, and eleven sheep were washed overboard. The butcher's shop was

washed away, and two barrels of beef, one of mackerel, and one of table

butter went with the rest. The heavy stoves in the steerage cook-room

were turned half-way round, and the capping of the huge smokestack was

moved several inches. The terrible wind lifted the hurricane-deck, so

that six of its props fell out. There was danger of the upper deck and

stateroom being blown away. That was a time to try people's souls, to

make them consider whether they were the Lord's or not. It was a blessed

thing to feel that we were in God's hands, that even if the water closed

over our bodies, it would be only the gate of heaven! What happiness to

be able to feel in one's heart: "My Father rules the storm." Many of us

thought of grandpa's sermon on the Sabbath, when he said, "With Christ

in the ship, we may smile at the storm."

The wind was so violent that the men doing duty on deck had to lie down,

and pull themselves about, or creep on their hands and knees. For two

hours our forward rail was three feet under water, the vessel lay so

much on one side, and for some time the ship would not mind her helm,

and lay in the trough of the sea. Finally, they rigged a small sail aft,

and that brought her up. He who rules the wind and the sea caused the

storm to abate, and towards evening it was comparatively calm. We had

had nothing to eat for twenty-four hours, which will give you some idea

of the storm. Staterooms and clothes were in many instances wet; but no

one complained, for all felt thankful for our escape. In the evening

there was a meeting in the saloon, and almost all the passengers

assembled with the officers of the vessel to give thanks to God for his

preserving mercy.

The next morning I rose early, so that I might see the entrance to

Acapulco Harbor. This entrance is very narrow, and is surrounded by high

wooded hills, forming one of the best harbors on the Pacific coast,

south of San Francisco. I went on shore again; but I gave you a

description of the place before.

August 27 found us at anchor off Panama. We were sorry to leave our good

ship and her pleasant corps of officers. When we were in the cars, the

natives brought a great many things to sell. One man would have

ear-rings, the next wine, then "nice lomonard," or little ornaments of

pearl-shell, while others brought fruit and cakes. After a tiresome

hour, we started on our journey across the Isthmus.

One thing that attracted my attention was the telegraph-posts; they

looked like stone, but were made of concrete.

"What is _concrete_?" asked Harry.

In this instance, I suppose it was a composition made of pounded stone

and cement cast in a mold. The mold was filled in with concrete and left

for several days. The reason of their having such posts was that the

worms destroyed the wooden ones.

The natives brought into the cars some beautiful flowers. They were of

alabaster whiteness, in shape not unlike a tulip, and having a strong

perfume somewhat like the magnolia. Resting within the cup of the

flower, lies the perfect image of a dove, with its beautifully formed

wings spread out from its side, its head bent forward, and its tiny bill

delicately tipped with red almost touching its snowy breast. No one who

has seen the flower can wonder that the early Spanish Catholics

believed the flowers to have had a miraculous origin, and named it

"Flor del Espiritu Santo" or "The Flower of the Holy Ghost."

Matachin is the largest station on the Isthmus. There we procured

oranges, which were unusually fine, also cakes tasting like macaroons,

and some bottles of milk.

Over the Chagres River at Barbacoas, is a wrought-iron bridge six

hundred and twenty-five feet long and eighteen broad, standing forty

feet above the surface of the water; it is said to be one of the longest

and finest bridges in the world. All along the road the sensitive plant,

with its feathery pink blossoms, grew in wild profusion.

At half-past eight in the evening we were on board the steamer Champion.

We soon commenced our last voyage, and _such_ a voyage! The vessel

rolled, and the ice in the hold gave out, and in consequence the meat

was in no fit state to eat. Every body and every thing seemed

uncomfortable. It was a great change from the clean and pleasant Golden

Age. We saw the islands of San Domingo, Narvasa, Jamaica, Cuba, Santa

Inagua, and Mayo Guano, of the West Indies.

On the morning of September 3, we were chased by a steamer. She was

under sail when we first saw her, but commenced getting up steam. She

lost time in that operation, and we outsailed her, much to our joy. Our

captain said without doubt she was a privateer.

Next day we were in the Gulf Stream. It was rough, squally, and rainy,

and the steamer rolled worse than ever. But all things come to an end,

and the next day was bright and pleasant. We left the Gulf Stream in the

night and were happy in a smooth sea. Six or seven ships were in sight,

and in the afternoon we passed Barnegat Lighthouse, then Highland

Light. We saw the lights in the hotels at Long Branch, and finally the

light on Sandy Hook beamed on our delighted eyes.

At two o'clock Sabbath morning, September 6, we lay at anchor off

quarantine, and at five we were at the wharf in New York,--our voyage

ended. After much delay and confusion, we got ourselves and baggage on

and in a carriage, and soon were receiving the greetings of friends.

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

Addison:--

"How are thy servants blest, O Lord!

How sure is their defense!

Eternal wisdom is their guide,

Their help, Omnipotence.

In foreign realms and lands remote,

Supported by thy care,

Through burning climes they pass unhurt,

And breathe in tainted air.

"When by the dreadful tempest borne

High on the broken wave,

They know thou art not slow to hear,

Nor impotent to save.

The storm is laid, the winds retire,

Obedient to thy will;

The sea that roars at thy command,

At thy command is still.

"In midst of dangers, fears, and deaths,

Thy goodness I'll adore;

I'll praise thee for thy mercies past,

And humbly hope for more.

My life, while thou preserv'st that life,

Thy sacrifice shall be;

And death, when death shall be my lot,

Shall join my soul to thee."

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

Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy

kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our debts

as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation;

but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the

power, and the glory, for ever. Amen.

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

E ko makou Makua iloko o ka lani, e hoa noia kou inoa. E

hiki mai kou Aupuni; e malamaia kou makemake ma ka honua

nei, e like me ia i malamaia ma ka lani la. E haawi mai ia

makou i keia la i ai na makou no neia la; e kala mai hoi ia

makou i ka makou lawehala ana, me makou e kala nei i ka poe

i lawehala i ka makou. Mai hookuu oe ia makou i ka

hoowalewaleia mai; e hoopakele no nae ia makou i ka ino; no

ka mea, nou ke Aupuni, a me ka mana, a me ka hoonaniia, a

mau soa aku. Amene.

Boston: Printed by Dakin and Metcalf, 37 Cornhill.

* * * * *

Transcriber's Notes:

Corrected minor punctuation errors.

Moved The Lord's Prayer in English and Hawaiian to the end of Chapter

XXII, as indicated in the Table of Contents. Moved other illustrations

to paragraph breaks.

Page vi, Contents, Chapter XIII: Changed Honiopu to Honoipu

(Arrival at Honoipu).

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

Kept the following spelling variations:

Page 185: a native pastor,--Mr. Kuaia

Page 204: Rev. Mr. Kuaea, a native minister

Page 142: I na misioneri nei,

Page 147: Na misionari nei.