I find that I can send another short letter before leaving for the
volcano. I cannot convey to you any idea of the greenness and
lavish luxuriance of this place, where everything flourishes, and
glorious trailers and parasitic ferns hide all unsightly objects out
of sight. It presents a bewildering maze of lilies, roses,
fuschias, clematis, begonias, convolvuli, the huge appalling looking
granadilla, the purple and yellow water lemons, also varieties of
passiflora, both with delicious edible fruit, custard apples, rose
apples, mangoes, mangostein guavas, bamboos, alligator pears,
oranges, tamarinds, papayas, bananas, breadfruit, magnolias,
geraniums, candle-nut, gardenias, dracaenas, eucalyptus, pandanus,
ohias, {59a} kamani trees, kalo, {59b} noni, {59c} and quantities of
other trees and flowers, of which I shall eventually learn the
names, patches of pine-apple, melons, and sugar-cane for children to
suck, kalo and sweet potatoes.
In the vicinity of this and all other houses, Chili peppers, and a
ginger-plant with a drooping flower-stalk with a great number of
blossoms, which when not fully developed have a singular resemblance
to very pure porcelain tinted with pink at the extremities of the
buds, are to be seen growing in "yards," to use a most unfitting
Americanism. I don't know how to introduce you to some of the
things which delight my eyes here; but I must ask you to believe
that the specimens of tropical growths which we see in
conservatories at home are in general either misrepresentations, or
very feeble representations of these growths in their natural homes.
I don't allude to flowers, and especially not to orchids, but in
this instance very specially to bananas, coco-palms, and the
pandanus. For example, there is a specimen of the Pandanus
odoratissimus in the palm-house in the Edinburgh Botanic Gardens,
which is certainly a malignant caricature, with its long straggling
branches, and widely scattered tufts of poverty stricken foliage.
The bananas and plantains in that same palm-house represent only the
feeblest and poorest of their tribe. They require not only warmth
and moisture, but the generous sunshine of the tropics for their
development. In the same house the date and sugar-palms are
tolerable specimens, but the cocoa-nut trees are most truly "palms
in exile."
I suppose that few people ever forget the first sight of a palm-tree
of any species. I vividly remember seeing one for the first time at
Malaga, but the coco-palm groves of the Pacific have a strangeness
and witchery of their own. As I write now I hear the moaning rustle
of the wind through their plume-like tops, and their long slender
stems, and crisp crown of leaves above the trees with shining
leafage which revel in damp, have a suggestion of Orientalism about
them. How do they come too, on every atoll or rock that raises its
head throughout this lonely ocean? They fringe the shores of these
islands. Wherever it is dry and fiercely hot, and the lava is black
and hard, and nothing else grows, or can grow, there they are, close
to the sea, sending their root-fibres seawards as if in search of
salt water. Their long, curved, wrinkled, perfectly cylindrical
stems, bulging near the ground like an apothecary's pestle, rise to
a height of from sixty to one hundred feet. These stems are never
straight, and in a grove lean and curve every way, and are
apparently capable of enduring any force of wind or earthquake.
They look as if they had never been young, and they show no signs of
growth, rearing their plumy tufts so far aloft, and casting their
shadows so far away, always supremely lonely, as though they
belonged to the heavens rather than the earth. Then, while all else
that grows is green they are yellowish. Their clusters of nuts in
all stages of growth are yellow, their fan-like leaves, which are
from twelve to twenty feet long, are yellow, and an amber light
pervades and surrounds them. They provide milk, oil, food, rope,
and matting, and each tree produces about one hundred nuts annually.
The pandanus, or lauhala, is one of the most striking features of
the islands. Its funereal foliage droops in Hilo, and it was it
that I noticed all along the windward coast as having a most
striking peculiarity of aerial roots which the branches send down to
the ground, and which I now see have large cup-shaped spongioles.
These air-roots seem like props, and appear to vary in length from
three to twelve feet, according to the situation of the tree. There
is one variety I saw to-day, the "screw pine," which is really
dangerous if one approached it unguardedly. It is a whorled
pandanus, with long sword-shaped leaves, spirally arranged in three
rows, and hard, saw-toothed edges, very sharp. When unbranched as I
saw them, they resemble at a distance pine-apple plants thirty times
magnified. But the mournful looking trees along the coast and all
about Hilo are mostly the Pandanus odoratissimus, a spreading and
branching tree which grows fully twenty-five feet high, supports
itself among inaccessible rocks by its prop-like roots, and is one
of the first plants to appear on the newly-formed Pacific islands.
{62} Its foliage is singularly dense, although it is borne in tufts
of a quantity of long yucca-like leaves on the branches. The shape
of the tree is usually circular. The mournful look is caused by the
leaves taking a downward and very decided droop in the middle. At
present each tuft of leaves has in its centre an object like a green
pine-apple. This contains the seeds which are eatable, as is also
the fleshy part of the drupes. I find that it is from the seeds of
this tree and their coverings that the brilliant orange leis, or
garlands of the natives, are made. The soft white case of the
leaves and the terminal buds can also be eaten. The leaves are used
for thatching, and their tough longitudinal fibres for mats and
ropes. There is another kind, the Pandanus vacoa, the same as is
used for making sugar bags in Mauritius, but I have not seen it.
One does not forget the first sight of a palm. I think the banana
comes next, and I see them in perfection here for the first time, as
those in Honolulu grow in "yards," and are tattered by the winds.
It transports me into the tropics in feeling, as I am already in
them in fact, and satisfies all my cravings for something which
shall represent and epitomize their luxuriance, as well as for
simplicity and grace in vegetable form. And here it is everywhere
with its shining shade, its smooth fat green stem, its crown of huge
curving leaves from four to ten feet long, and its heavy cluster of
a whorl of green or golden fruit, with a pendant purple cone of
undeveloped blossom below. It is of the tropics, tropical; a thing
of beauty, and gladness, and sunshine. It is indigenous here, and
wild, but never bears seeds, and is propagated solely by suckers,
which spring up when the parent plant has fruited, or by cuttings.
It bears seed, strange to say, only (so far as is known) in the
Andaman Islands, where, stranger still, it springs up as a second
growth wherever the forests are cleared. Go to the palm-house, find
the Musa sapientum, magnify it ten times, glorify it immeasurably,
and you will have a laggard idea of the banana groves of Hilo.
The ground is carpeted with a grass of preternaturally vivid green
and rankness of growth, mixed with a handsome fern, with a caudex a
foot high, the Sadleria cyathoides, and another of exquisite beauty,
the Micropia tenuifolia, which are said to be the commonest ferns on
Hawaii. It looks Elysian.
Hilo is a lively place for such a mere village; so many natives are
stirring about, and dashing along the narrow roads on horseback.
This is a large airy house, simple and tasteful, with pretty
engravings and water-colour drawings on the walls. There is a large
bath-house in the garden, into which a pure, cool stream has been
led, and the gurgle and music of many such streams fill the sweet,
soft air. There is a saying among sailors, "Follow a Pacific
shower, and it leads you to Hilo." Indeed I think they have a
rainfall of from thirteen to sixteen feet annually. These deep
verandahs are very pleasant, for they render window-blinds
unnecessary; so there is nothing of that dark stuffiness which makes
indoor life a trial in the closed, shadeless Australian houses.
Miss Karpe, my travelling companion, is a lady of great energy, and
apparently an adept in the art of travelling. Undismayed by three
days of sea-sickness, and the prospect of the tremendous journey to
the volcano to-morrow, she extemporised a ride to the Anuenue Falls
on the Wailuku this afternoon, and I weakly accompanied her, a burly
policeman being our guide. The track is only a scramble among rocks
and holes, concealed by grass and ferns, and we had to cross a
stream, full of great holes, several times. The Fall itself is very
pretty, 110 feet in one descent, with a cavernous shrine behind the
water, filled with ferns. There were large ferns all round the
Fall, and a jungle of luxuriant tropical shrubs of many kinds.
Three miles above this Fall there are the Pei-pei Falls, very
interesting geologically. The Wailuku River is the boundary between
the two great volcanoes, and its waters, it is supposed by learned
men, have often flowed over heated beds of basalt, with the result
of columnar formation radiating from the bottom of the stream. This
structure is sometimes beautifully exhibited in the form of Gothic
archways, through which the torrent pours into a basin, surrounded
by curved, broken, and half-sunk prisms, black and prominent amidst
the white foam of the Falls. In several places the river has just
pierced the beds of lava, and in one passes under a thick rock
bridge, several hundred feet wide. Often, where the water flows
over beds of dark grey basalt, masses of trachyte, closely
resembling syenite, have formed "potholes," and by mutual action
have been worn to pebbles. At Pei-pei there are three circular
pools, each about fifty feet in diameter, and separated by walls six
feet thick, in a bed of columnar basalt. {65} During freshets the
river sometimes rises thirty feet, and hides these pools, but during
the dry season the upper bed is bare, and after a succession of
cascades of various heights the stream pours into the first basin,
filling it with foam. From this there is no apparent outlet, but
leaves thrown in soon appear in the second basin, whose tranquillity
is only disturbed by a few bubbles. Between this and the third
there are two subterranean passages, and the water there leaps over
a fall about forty feet high, nearly covering a perfect Gothic arch
which is the entrance to a shallow cave. The scene is enclosed by
high and nearly perpendicular walls. {66}
Near the Anuenue Fall we stopped at a native house, outside which a
woman, in a rose-coloured chemise, was stringing roses for a
necklace, while her husband pounded the kalo root on a board. His
only clothing was the malo, a narrow strip of cloth wound round the
loins, and passed between the legs. This was the only covering worn
by men before the introduction of Christianity. Females wore the
pau, a short petticoat made of tapa, which reached from the waist to
the knees. To our eyes, the brown skin produces nearly the effect
of clothing.
Everything was new and interesting, but the ride was spoiled by my
insecure seat in my saddle, and the increased pain in my spine which
riding produced. Once in crossing a stream the horses have to make
a sort of downward jump from a rock, and I slipped round my horse's
neck. Indeed on the way back I felt that on the ground of health I
must give up the volcano, as I would never consent to be carried to
it, like Lady Franklin, in a litter. When we returned, Mr.
Severance suggested that it would be much better for me to follow
the Hawaiian fashion, and ride astride, and put his saddle on the
horse. It was only my strong desire to see the volcano which made
me consent to a mode of riding against which I have so strong a
prejudice, but the result of the experiment is that I shall visit
Kilauea thus or not at all. The native women all ride astride, on
ordinary occasions in the full sacks, or holukus, and on gala days
in the pau, the gay, winged dress which I described in writing from
Honolulu. A great many of the foreign ladies on Hawaii have adopted
the Mexican saddle also, for greater security to themselves and ease
to their horses, on the steep and perilous bridle-tracks, but they
wear full Turkish trowsers and jauntily-made dresses reaching to the
ankles.
It appears that Hilo is free from the universally admitted nuisance
of morning calls. The hours are simple--eight o'clock breakfasts,
one o'clock dinners, six o'clock suppers. If people want anything
with you, they come at any hour of the day, but if they only wish to
be sociable, the early evening is the recognized time for "calling."
After supper, when the day's work is done, people take their
lanterns and visit each other, either in the verandahs or in the
cheerful parlours which open upon them. There are no door-bells, or
solemn announcements by servants of visitors' names, or "not-at-
homes." If people are in their parlours, it is presumed that they
receive their friends. Several pleasant people came in this
evening. They seem to take great interest in two ladies going to
the volcano without an escort, but no news has been received from it
lately, and I fear that it is not very active as no glare is visible
to-night. Mr. Thompson, the pastor of the small foreign
congregation here, called on me. He is a very agreeable,
accomplished man, and is acquainted with Dr. Holland and several of
my New England friends. He kindly brought his wife's riding-costume
for my trip to Kilauea. The Rev. Titus Coan, one of the first and
most successful missionaries to Hawaii, also called. He is a tall,
majestic-looking man, physically well fitted for the extraordinary
exertions he has undergone in mission work, and intellectually also,
I should think, for his face expresses great mental strength, and
nothing of the weakness of a sanguine enthusiast. He has admitted
about 12,000 persons into the Christian Church. He is the greatest
authority on volcanoes on the islands, and his enthusiastic manner
and illuminated countenance as he spoke of Kilauea, have raised my
expectations to the highest pitch. We are prepared for to-morrow,
having engaged a native named Upa, who boasts a little English, as
our guide. He provides three horses and himself for three days for
the sum of thirty dollars.
I.L.B.