CHAPTER I.

[Transcriber's Notes: The following words are noted as having changed

between the publication of this book and the year 2004: 'Nuuanu

Valley', versus 'Nuanu'; 'lei', vs. 'le' for a flower garland; 'holoku'

vs. 'holaku' for a Hawaiian black dress; 'Wailua', vs. 'Waialua';

'Kealakekua Bay' vs. 'Kealakeakua'; 'Kahului' vs. 'Kaului'; 'kuleana'

vs. 'kuliana' for a small land-holding; 'kulolo' vs. 'kuulaau' for a

taro pudding; 'piele' vs. 'paalolo' for a sweet-potato and coconut

pudding; 'Koa' trees vs. 'Ko'; 'Sausalito' vs. 'Soucelito'; 'Klickitat',

vs. 'Klikatat'; and 'Mount Rainier' vs. 'Mount Regnier'.

Also, in chapter 1, the author mis-stated information on taro fields;

it should say that a square forty feet on each side will support a

person for a year; this is equivalent to a square mile feeding 15,000.

An explanation of footnotes in the Appendix: The book has both footnotes

at the bottom of each page, to which I assigned letters, and four pages

of notes at the end of the Appendix. The latter includes comments by

the translator in brackets, therefore these notes, which use numbers,

will not be enclosed in the normal [Footnote: ] brackets to avoid any

confusion. The lettered footnotes follow the numbered notes at the

end.]

[Illustration: THE HAWAIIAN ARCHIPELAGO.]

NORTHERN CALIFORNIA,

OREGON,

AND THE

SANDWICH ISLANDS.

BY CHARLES NORDHOFF,

AUTHOR OF

"CALIFORNIA: FOR HEALTH, PLEASURE, AND RESIDENCE," &c., &c.

NEW YORK:

HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,

FRANKLIN SQUARE.

1875.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by

HARPER & BROTHERS,

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

TO MY FRIENDS,

MR. AND MRS. HENRY A. DIKE,

OF BROOKLYN, N.Y.

PREFACE.

The favor with which my previous volume on California was received by the

public induced me to prepare the present volume, which concerns itself,

as the title sufficiently shows, with the northern parts of California,

Oregon (including a journey through Washington Territory to Victoria, in

Vancouver's Island), and the Sandwich Islands.

I have endeavored, as before, to give plain and circumstantial details,

such as would interest and be of use to travelers for pleasure or

information, and enable the reader to judge of the climate, scenery,

and natural resources of the regions I visited; to give, in short, such

information as I myself would like to have had in my possession before

I made the journey.

Since this book went to press, Lunalilo, the King of the Sandwich Islands,

has died of rapid consumption; and his successor is the Hon. David

Kalakaua, a native chief, who has been prominent in the political affairs

of the Islands, and was the rival of the late king after the death of

Kamehameha V. Colonel Kalakaua is a man of education, of better physical

stamina than the late king, of good habits, vigorous will, and a strong

determination to maintain the independence of the Islands, in which he is

supported by the people, who are of like mind with him on this point. His

portrait is given on the next leaf.

[Illustration: KING KALAKAUA.]

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

HONOLULU AND THE ISLAND OF OAHU

CHAPTER II.

HILO, WITH SOME VOLCANOES

CHAPTER III.

MAUI, AND THE SUGAR CULTURE

CHAPTER IV.

KAUAI, WITH A GLANCE AT CATTLE AND SHEEP

CHAPTER V.

THE HAWAIIAN AT HOME: MANNERS AND CUSTOMS

CHAPTER VI.

COMMERCIAL AND POLITICAL

CHAPTER VII.

THE LEPER ASYLUM ON MOLOKAI

* * * * *

NORTHERN CALIFORNIA:

ITS AGRICULTURAL VALLEYS, DAIRIES, FORESTS, FRUIT-FARMS, ETC.

CHAPTER I.

THE SACRAMENTO VALLEY: A GENERAL VIEW, WITH HINTS TO TOURISTS AND

SPORTSMEN

CHAPTER II.

WINE AND RAISINS--PROFITS OF DRYING FRUITS

CHAPTER III.

THE TULE LANDS AND LAND DRAINAGE

CHAPTER IV.

SHEEP-GRAZING IN NORTHERN CALIFORNIA

CHAPTER V.

THE CHINESE AS LABORERS AND PRODUCERS

CHAPTER VI.

THE MENDOCINO COAST AND CLEAR LAKE--GENERAL VIEW

CHAPTER VII.

AN INDIAN RESERVATION

CHAPTER VIII.

THE REDWOODS AND THE SAW-MILL COUNTRY OF MENDOCINO

CHAPTER IX.

DAIRY-FARMING IN CALIFORNIA

CHAPTER X.

TEHAMA AND BUTTE, AND THE UPPER COUNTRY

CHAPTER XI.

TOBACCO CULTURE--WITH A NEW METHOD OR CURING THE LEAF

CHAPTER XII.

THE FARALLON ISLANDS

CHAPTER XIII.

THE COLUMBIA RIVER AND PUGET SOUND--HINTS TO TOURISTS

* * * * *

APPENDIX.

CONTRIBUTIONS OF A VENERABLE SAVAGE TO THE ANCIENT HISTORY OF THE HAWAIIAN

ISLANDS

NOTES

ILLUSTRATIONS.

MAP OF THE HAWAIIAN ARCHIPELAGO

KING KALAKAUA

DIAMOND HEAD AND WAIKIKI

HONOLULU--GENERAL VIEW

HAWAIIAN HOTEL, HONOLULU

GOVERNMENT BUILDINGS, HONOLULU

ROYAL SCHOOL, HONOLULU

COURT-HOUSE, HONOLULU

MRS. LUCY G. THURSTON

KAWAIAHO CHURCH--FIRST NATIVE CHURCH IN HONOLULU

DR. JUDD

DR. COAN

BETHEL CHURCH

DR. DAMON

QUEEN'S HOSPITAL, HONOLULU

NATIVE SCHOOL-HOUSE IN HONOLULU

COCOA-NUT GROVE, AND RESIDENCE OF THE LATE KING KAMEHAMEHA V., AT WAIKIKI,

OAHU

HAWAIIAN POI DEALER

THE PALACE, HONOLULU

EMMA, QUEEN OF KAMEHAMEHA IV.

A HAWAIIAN CHIEF

THE CRATER OF KILAUEA--ONE PHASE

KEALAKEAKUA BAY, WHERE CAPTAIN COOK WAS KILLED

THE VOLCANO HOUSE

HAWAIIAN TEMPLE, FROM A RUSSIAN ENGRAVING, ABOUT 1790

LAVA FIELD, HAWAII--FLOW OF 1868

VIEW OF THE CRATER OF SOUTH LAKE IN A STATE OF ERUPTION, FROM THE CREST OF

THE NORTH LAKE

HILO

SURF BATHING

LAHAINA, ISLAND OF MAUI

CASCADE AND RIVER OF LAVA--FLOW OF 1869

MAP OF THE HALEAKALA CRATER

WAILUKU, ISLAND OF MAUI

KEAPAWEO MOUNTAIN, KAUAI

CHAIN OF EXTINCT VOLCANOES NEAR KOLOA, ISLAND OF KAUAI

WAIALUA FALLS, ISLAND OF KAUAI

IMPLEMENTS

GRASS HOUSE

HAWAIIAN WARRIORS

LUNALILO

KAMEHAMEHA I.

QUEEN OF KAMEHAMEHA I.

ANCIENT GODS OF HAWAII

HAWAIIANS EATING POI

NATIVE HAT PEDDLER

HULA-HULA, OR DANCING-GIRLS

HAWAIIAN STYLE OF DRESS

NATIVE PIPE

NECKLACE OF HUMAN HAIR

MAP OF NORTHERN CALIFORNIA

A CALIFORNIA VINEYARD

WINE VATS

TRAINING A VINE

A BOTTLING-CELLAR

INDIAN RANCHERIA

PIEDRAS BLANCAS

POINT ARENA LIGHT-HOUSE

SHIPPING LUMBER, MENDOCINO COUNTY

A WATER-JAM OF LOGS

MOUNT HOOD, OREGON

COAST VIEW, MENDOCINO COUNTY

INDIAN SWEAT-HOUSE

ANOTHER COAST-VIEW, NORTHERN CALIFORNIA

A SAW-MILL PORT ON PUGET SOUND

CAPE HORN, COLUMBIA RIVER

SAW-MILL

WOOD-CHOPPER AT WORK

MOUNT HOOD, OREGON

INDIANS SPEARING SALMON, COLUMBIA RIVER

CHINOOK WOMAN AND CHILD

VIEW ON THE COLUMBIA RIVER

LUMBERING IN WASHINGTON TERRITORY--PREPARING LOGS

VICTORIA HARBOR, VANCOUVER'S ISLAND

PORT TOWNSEND, WASHINGTON TERRITORY

POINT REYES

COLUMBIA RIVER SCENE

STREET IN OLYMPIA, WASHINGTON TERRITORY

"TACOMA," OR MOUNT RAINIER

INDIAN CRADLE, WASHINGTON TERRITORY

RUNNING THE ROOKERIES--GATHERING MURRE EGGS

LIGHT-HOUSE ON THE SOUTH FARALLON

ARCH AT WEST END, FARALLON ISLANDS

SEA-LIONS

THE GULL'S NEST

SHAGS, MURRES, AND SEA-GULLS

CONTEST FOR THE EGGS

THE GREAT ROOKERY

INDIAN GIRLS AND CANOE, PUGET SOUND

SALEM, CAPITAL OF OREGON

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON TERRITORY

VICTORIA, BRITISH COLUMBIA

MAP OF PUGET SOUND AND VICINITY

THE DUKE OF YORK

QUEEN VICTORIA

NANAIMO, VANCOUVER'S ISLAND

ANCIENT HAWAIIAN IDOL

THE TARO PLANT

[Illustration: DIAMOND HEAD AND WAIKIKI.]

NORTHERN CALIFORNIA, OREGON,

AND

THE SANDWICH ISLANDS.

* * * * *

CHAPTER I.

HONOLULU AND THE ISLAND OF OAHU.

The Hawaiian group consists, as you will see on the map, of eleven

islands, of which Hawaii is the largest and Molokini the smallest. The

islands together contain about 6000 square miles; and Hawaii alone has an

area of nearly 4000 square miles, Maui 620, Oahu (which contains Honolulu,

the capital) 530, and Kauai 500. Lanai, Kahoolawe, Molokai, Niihau,

Kaula, Lehua, and Molokini are small islands. All are of volcanic

origin, mountainous, and Hawaii contains the largest active crater in the

world--Kilauea--one of the craters of Mauna Loa; while Maui contains

the largest known extinct crater, Haleakala, the House of the Sun--a pit

thirty miles in circumference and two thousand feet deep. Mauna Loa and

Mauna Kea are nearly 14,000 feet high, as high as Mount Grey in Colorado;

and you can not ride anywhere in the islands without seeing extinct

craters, of which the hill called Diamond Head, near Honolulu, is an

example.

[Illustration: HONOLULU--GENERAL VIEW.]

The voyage from San Francisco to Honolulu is now very comfortably made in

one of the Pacific Mail Company's steamers, which plies regularly between

the two ports, and makes a round trip once in every month. The voyage down

to the Islands lasts from eight to nine days, and even to persons subject

to sea-sickness is likely to be an enjoyable sea-journey, because after

the second day the weather is charmingly warm, the breezes usually mild,

and the skies sunny and clear. In forty-eight hours after you leave

the Golden Gate, shawls, overcoats, and wraps are discarded. You put on

thinner clothing. After breakfast you will like to spread rugs on deck

and lie in the sun, fanned by deliciously soft winds; and before you see

Honolulu you will, even in winter, like to have an awning spread over you

to keep off the sun. When they seek a tropical climate, our brethren on

the Pacific coast have to endure no such rough voyage as that across

the Atlantic. On the way you see flying-fish, and if you are lucky an

occasional whale or a school of porpoises, but no ships. It is one of the

loneliest of ocean tracks, for sailing-vessels usually steer farther north

to catch stronger gales. But you sail over the lovely blue of the Pacific

Ocean, which has not only softer gales but even a different shade of color

than the fierce Atlantic.

We made the land at daylight on the tenth day of the voyage, and by

breakfast-time were steaming through the Molokai Channel, with the high,

rugged, and bare volcanic cliffs of Oahu close aboard, the surf beating

vehemently against the shore. An hour later we rounded Diamond Head, and

sailing past Waikiki, which is the Long Branch of Honolulu charmingly

placed amidst groves of cocoa-nut-trees, turned sharp about, and steamed

through a narrow channel into the landlocked little harbor of Honolulu,

smooth as a mill-pond.

It is not until you are almost within the harbor that you get a fair view

of the city, which lies embowered in palms and fine tamarind-trees, with

the tall fronds of the banana peering above the low-roofed houses; and

thus the tropics come after all somewhat suddenly upon you; for the

land which you have skirted all the morning is by no means tropical in

appearance, and the cocoa-nut groves of Waikiki will disappoint you on

their first and too distant view, which gives them the insignificant

appearance of tall reeds. But your first view of Honolulu, that from the

ship's deck, is one of the pleasantest you can get: it is a view of gray

house-tops, hidden in luxuriant green, with a background of volcanic

mountains three or four thousand feet high, and an immediate foreground of

smooth harbor, gay with man-of-war boats, native canoes and flags, and

the wharf, with ladies in carriages, and native fruit-venders in what will

seem to you brightly colored night-gowns, eager to sell you a feast of

bananas and oranges.

There are several other fine views of Honolulu, especially that from the

lovely Nuanu Valley, looking seaward over the town, and one from the roof

of the prison, which edifice, clean, roomy, and in the day-time empty

because the convicts are sent out to labor on public works and roads, has

one of the finest situations in the town's limits, directly facing the

Nuanu Valley.

From the steamer you proceed to a surprisingly excellent hotel, which was

built at a cost of about $120,000, and is owned by the government.

You will find it a large building, affording all the conveniences of a

first-class hotel in any part of the world. It is built of a concrete

stone made on the spot, of which also the new Parliament House is

composed; and as it has roomy, well-shaded court-yards and deep, cool

piazzas, and breezy halls and good rooms, and baths and gas, and a

billiard-room, you might imagine yourself in San Francisco, were it not

that you drive in under the shade of cocoa-nut, tamarind, guava, and

algeroba trees, and find all the doors and windows open in midwinter; and

ladies and children in white sitting on the piazzas.

[Illustration: HAWAIIAN HOTEL, HONOLULU.]

It is told in Honolulu that the building of this hotel cost two of the

late king's cabinet, Mr. Harris and Dr. Smith, their places. The Hawaiian

people are economical, and not very enterprising; they dislike debt, and

a considerable part of the Hawaiian national debt was contracted to build

this hotel. You will feel sorry for Messrs. Harris and Smith, who were for

many years two of the ablest members of the Hawaiian cabinet, but you will

feel grateful for their enterprise also, when you hear that before this

hotel was completed--that is to say, until 1871--a stranger landing in

Honolulu had either to throw himself on the hospitality of the citizens,

take his lodgings in the Sailors' Home, or go back to his ship. It is not

often that cabinet ministers fall in so good a cause, or incur the public

displeasure for an act which adds so much to the comfort of mankind.

The mercury ranges between 68° and 81° in the winter months and

between 75° and 86° during the summer, in Honolulu. The mornings are

often a little overcast until about half-past nine, when it clears

away bright. The hottest part of the day is before noon. The

trade-wind usually blows, and when it does it is always cool; with a

south wind; it is sometimes sultry, though the heat is never nearly so

oppressive as in July and August in New York. In fact, a New Yorker

whom I met in the Islands in August congratulated himself as much on

having escaped the New York summer as others did on having avoided the

winter.

The nights are cool enough for sound rest, but not cold.

It is not by any means a torrid climate, and it has, perhaps, the

fewest daily extremes of any pleasant climate in the world. For

instance, the mercury ranged in January between 69° at 7 A.M., 75-1/2°

at 2 P.M., and 71-1/2° at 10 P.M. The highest temperature in that month

was 78°, and the lowest 68°. December and January are usually the

coolest months in the year at Honolulu, but the variation is extremely

slight for the whole year, the maximum of the warmest day in July

(still at Honolulu) being only 86°, and this at noon, and the lowest

mark being 62°, in the early morning in December. A friend of mine

resident during twenty years in the Islands has never had a blanket in

his house.

It is said that the climate is an excellent one for consumptives, and

physicians here point to numerous instances of the kindly and healing

effect of the mild air. At the same time, I suspect it must in the

long-run be a little debilitating to Americans. It is a charming climate

for children; and as sea-bathing is possible and pleasant at all times,

those who derive benefit from this may here enjoy it to the fullest extent

during all the winter months as well as in the summer.

Of course you wear thin, but not the thinnest, clothing. White is

appropriate to the climate; but summer flannels are comfortable in winter.

The air is never as sultry as in New York in July or August, and the

heat is by no means oppressive, there being almost always a fresh breeze.

Honolulu has the reputation of being the hottest place on the islands,

and a walk through its streets at midday quickly tires one; but in a

mountainous country like this you may choose your temperature, of course.

The summits of the highest peaks on Hawaii are covered with almost

perpetual snow; and there are sugar planters who might sit around a fire

every night in the year.

Unlike California, the Islands have no special rainy season, though

rain is more abundant in winter than during the summer months. But the

trade-wind, which is also the rain-wind, greatly controls the rain-fall;

and it is useful for visitors to bear in mind that on the weather side

of every one of the Islands--that side exposed to the wind--rains are

frequent, while on the lee side the rain-fall is much less, and in some

places there is scarcely any. Thus an invalid may get at will either a dry

or moist climate, and this often by moving but a few miles. Not only is

it true that at Hilo it sometimes rains for a month at a time, while at

Lahaina they have a shower only about once in eighteen months; but you may

_see_ it rain every day from the hotel piazza in Honolulu, though you get

not a drop in the city itself; for in the Nuanu and Manoa valleys there

are showers every day in the year--the droppings of fragments of clouds

which have been blown over the mountain summits; and if you cross the Pali

to go the windward side of the island, though you set out from Honolulu

amidst brilliant sunshine which will endure there all day unchanged, you

will not ride three miles without needing a mackintosh. But the residents,

knowing that during the greater part of the year the showers are light and

of brief duration, take no precautions against them; and indeed an island

shower seems to be harmless to any one but an invalid, for it is not a

climate in which one easily "takes cold."

The very slight changes in temperature between day and night make the

climate agreeable, and I think useful, to persons in tender health. But I

do not believe it can be safely recommended for all cases of consumption.

If the patient has the disease fully developed, and if it has been

caused by lack of nutrition, I should think the island air likely to be

insufficiently bracing. For persons who have "weak lungs" merely, but no

actual disease, it is probably a good and perfectly safe climate; and if

sea-bathing is part of your physician's prescription, it can, as I said

before, be enjoyed in perfection here by the tenderest body all the year

round.

[Illustration: GOVERNMENT BUILDINGS, HONOLULU.]

Honolulu, being the capital of the kingdom, contains the government

offices; and you will perhaps be surprised, as I was, to find an excellent

public hospital, a reform school, and other proper and well-managed

charities. When you have visited these and some of the numerous schools

and the native churches, and have driven or ridden to Waikiki for a

sea-bath, and have seen the Nuanu Valley and the precipice called the

Pali, if you are American, and familiar with New England, it will be

revealed to you that the reason why all the country looks so familiar

to you is that it is really a very accurate reproduction of New

England country scenery. The white frame houses with green blinds, the

picket-fences whitewashed until they shine, the stone walls, the small

barns, the scanty pastures, the little white frame churches scattered

about, the narrow "front yards," the frequent school-houses, usually with

but little shade: all are New England, genuine and unadulterated; and

you have only to eliminate the palms, the bananas, and other tropical

vegetation, to have before you a fine bit of Vermont or the stonier parts

of Massachusetts. The whole scene has no more breadth nor freedom about it

than a petty New England village, but it is just as neat, trim, orderly,

and silent also. There is even the same propensity to put all the

household affairs under one roof which was born of a severe climate in

Massachusetts, but has been brought over to these milder suns by the

incorrigible Puritans who founded this bit of civilization.

[Illustration: ROYAL SCHOOL, HONOLULU.]

In fact, the missionaries have left an indelible mark upon these islands.

You do not need to look deep to know that they were men of force, men of

the same kind as they who have left an equally deep impress upon so large

a part of our Western States; men and women who had formed their own lives

according to certain fixed and immutable rules, who knew no better country

than New England, nor any better ways than New England ways, and to

whom it never occurred to think that what was good and sufficient in

Massachusetts was not equally good and fit in any part of the world.

Patiently, and somewhat rigorously, no doubt, they sought from the

beginning to make New England men and women of these Hawaiians; and what

is wonderful is that, to a large extent, they have succeeded.

As you ride about the suburbs of Honolulu, and later as you travel about

the islands, more and more you will be impressed with a feeling of respect

and admiration for the missionaries. Whatever of material prosperity has

grown up here is built on their work, and could not have existed but for

their preceding labors; and you see in the spirit of the people, in their

often quaint habits, in their universal education, in all that makes these

islands peculiar and what they are, the marks of the Puritans who came

here but fifty years ago to civilize a savage nation, and have done their

work so thoroughly that, even though the Hawaiian people became extinct,

it would require a century to obliterate the way-marks of that handful of

determined New England men and women.

[Illustration: COURT-HOUSE, HONOLULU.]

Their patient and effective labors seem to me, now that I have seen the

results, to have been singularly undervalued at home. No intelligent

American can visit the islands and remain there even a month, without

feeling proud that the civilization which has here been created in so

marvelously short a time was the work of his country men and women; and if

you make the acquaintance of the older missionary families, you will not

leave them without deep personal esteem for their characters, as well as

admiration of their work. They did not only form a written language

for the Hawaiian race, and painfully write for them school-books, a

dictionary, and a translation of the Scriptures and of a hymn-book; they

did not merely gather the people in churches and their children into

schools; but they guided the race, slowly and with immense difficulty,

toward Christian civilization; and though the Hawaiian is no more a

perfect Christian than the New Yorker or Massachusetts man, and

though there are still traces of old customs and superstitions, these

missionaries have eradicated the grosser crimes of murder and theft so

completely, that even in Honolulu people leave their houses open all

day and unlocked all night, without thought of theft; and there is not a

country in the world where the stranger may travel in such absolute safety

as in these islands.

The Hawaiian, or Sandwich Islands, were discovered--or rediscovered, as

some say--by Captain Cook, in January, 1778, a year and a half after

our Declaration of Independence. The inhabitants were then what we call

savages--that is to say, they wore no more clothing than the climate

made necessary, and knew nothing of the Christian religion. In the

period between 1861 and 1865 this group had in the Union armies a

brigadier-general, a major, several other officers, and more than one

hundred private soldiers and seamen, and its people contributed to the

treasury of the Sanitary Commission a sum larger than that given by most

of our own States.

[Illustration: MRS. LUCY G. THURSTON.]

In 1820 the first missionaries landed on the shores of these islands, and

Mrs. Lucy G. Thurston, one of those who came in that year, still lives, a

bright, active old lady, with a shrewd wit of her own. Thirty-three years

afterward, in 1853, the American Board of Missions determined that "the

Sandwich Islands, having been Christianized, shall no longer receive aid

from the Board;" and in this year, 1873, the natives of these islands

are, there is reason to believe, the most generally educated people in the

world. There is scarcely a Hawaiian--man, woman, or child--of suitable

age but can both read and write. All the towns and many country localities

possess substantial stone or, more often, framed churches, of the oddest

New England pattern; and a compulsory education law draws every child into

the schools, while a special tax of two dollars on every voter, and an

additional general tax, provide schools and teachers for all the children

and youth.

[Illustration: KAWAIAHO CHURCH--FIRST-NATIVE CHURCH IN HONOLULU.]

Nine hundred and three thousand dollars were given by Christian people in

the United States during thirty-five years to accomplish this result; and

to-day the islands themselves support a missionary society, which sends

the Gospel in the hands of native missionaries into other islands at its

own cost, and not only supports more than a dozen "foreign" missionaries,

but translates parts of the Bible into other Polynesian tongues.

Nor was exile from their homes and kindred the only privation the

missionaries suffered. They came among a people so vile that they had not

even a conception of right and wrong; so prone to murder and pillage that

the first Kamehameha, the conqueror, gave as excuse for his conquest that

it was necessary to make the paths safe; so debauched in their common

conversation that the earlier missionaries were obliged for years rigidly

to forbid their own children not only from acquaintance with the natives

among whom they lived, but even from learning the native language, because

to hear only the passing speech of their neighbors was to suffer the

grossest contamination.

Of those who began this good work but few now remain. Most of them have

gone to their reward, having no doubt suffered, as well as accomplished,

much. Of the first band who came out from the United States, the only one

living in 1873 is Mrs. Lucy G. Thurston, a bright, active, and lively old

lady of seventy-five years, who drives herself to church on Sundays in a

one-horse chaise, and has her own opinions of passing events. How she has

lived in the tropics for fifty years without losing even an atom of the

New England look puzzles you; but it shows you also the strength which

these people brought with them, the tenacity with which they clung

to their habits of dress and living and thought, the remorseless

determination which they imported, with their other effects, around Cape

Horn.

[Illustration: DR. JUDD.]

Then there was Dr. Judd, who has died since these lines were written, who

came out as physician to the mission, and proved himself in the islands,

as the world knows, a very able man, with statesmanship for some great

emergencies which made him for years one of the chief advisers of the

Hawaiian kings. It was to me a most touching sight to see, on a Sunday

after church, Mrs. Thurston, his senior by many years but still alert

and vigorous, taking hold of his hand and tenderly helping him out of the

church and to his carriage.

[Illustration: DR. COAN.]

And in Hilo, when you go to visit the volcano, you will find Dr. Coan, one

of the brightest and loveliest spirits of them, all, the story of whose

life in the remote island whose apostle he was, is as wonderful and as

touching as that of any of the earlier apostles, and shows what great

works unyielding faith and love can do in redeeming a savage people. When

Dr. and Mrs. Coan came to the island of Hawaii, its shores and woods were

populous; and through their labors and those of the Reverend Mr. Lyman

and one or two others, thousands of men and women were instructed in

the truths of Christianity, inducted into civilized habits of life, and

finally brought into the church.

As you sail along the green coast of Hawaii from its northern point to

Hilo, you will be surprised at the number of quaint little white churches

which mark the distances almost with the regularity of mile-stones; if,

later, you ride through this district or the one south of Hilo, you will

see that for every church there is also a school-house; you will see

native children reading and writing as well as our own at home; you may

hear them singing tunes familiar in our own Sunday-schools; you will see

the native man and woman sitting down to read their newspaper at the close

of day; and if you could talk with them, you would find they knew almost

as much about our late war as you do, for they took an intense interest in

the war of the rebellion. And you must remember that when, less than forty

years ago, Dr. and Mrs. Coan came to Hilo, the people were naked savages,

with but one church and one school-house in the district, and almost

without printed books or knowledge of reading. They flocked to hear the

Gospel. Thousands removed from a distance to Hilo, where, in their

rapid way, they built up a large town, and kept up surely the strangest

"protracted meeting" ever held; and going back to their homes after many

months, they took with them knowledge and zeal to build up Christian

churches and schools of their own.

Over these Dr. Coan has presided these many years; not only preaching

regularly on Sundays and during the week in the large native church at

Hilo, and in two or three neighboring churches, but visiting the more

distant churches at intervals to examine and instruct the members, and

keep them all on the right track. He has seen a region very populous

when he first came to it decrease until it has now many more deserted and

ruined house-places than inhabited dwellings; but, also, he has seen a

great population turned from darkness to light, a considerable part of it

following his own blameless and loving life as an example, and very many

living to old age steadfast and zealous Christians.

On your first Sunday at Honolulu you will probably attend one or other of

the native churches. They are commodious buildings, well furnished; and a

good organ, well played, will surprise you. Sunday is a very quiet day in

the Islands: they are a church-going people, and the empty seats in

the Honolulu native churches give you notice of the great decrease in

population since these were built.

[Illustration: BETHEL CHURCH.]

If you go to hear preaching in your own language, it will probably be to

the Seamen's Chapel where the Rev. Mr. Damon preaches--one of the oldest

and one of the best-known residents of Honolulu. This little chapel was

brought around Cape Horn in pieces, in a whale-ship many years ago, and

was, I believe, the first American church set up in these islands. It is

a curious old relic, and has seen many changes. Mr. Damon has lived here

since 1846 a most zealous and useful life as seamen's chaplain. He is, in

his own field, a true and untiring missionary, and to his care the port

owes a clean and roomy Seamen's Home, a valuable little paper, _The

Friend_, which was for many years the chief reading of the whalemen who

formerly crowded the ports of Hawaii; and help in distress, and fatherly

advice, and unceasing kindness at all times to a multitude of seamen

during nearly thirty years. The sailors, who quickly recognize a genuine

man, have dubbed him "Father Damon;" and he deserves, what he has long

had, their confidence and affection.

[Illustration: DR. DAMON.]

The charitable and penal institutions of Honolulu are quickly seen, and

deserve a visit. They show the care with which the Government has looked

after the welfare of the people. The Queen's Hospital is an admirably

kept house. At the Reform School you will see a number of boys trained and

educated in right ways. The prison not only deserves a visit for itself,

but from its roof you obtain, as I said before, one of the best views of

Honolulu and the adjacent country and ocean.

[Illustration: QUEEN'S HOSPITAL, HONOLULU.]

Then there are native schools, elementary and academic, where you will see

the young Hawaiian at his studies, and learn to appreciate the industry

and thoroughness with which education is carried on all over these

islands. You will see also curious evidence of the mixture of races here;

for on the benches sit, and in the classes recite, Hawaiian, Chinese,

Portuguese, half white and half Chinese children; and the little

pig-tailed Celestial reads out of his primer quite as well as any.

[Illustration: NATIVE SCHOOL-HOUSE IN HONOLULU.]

In the girls' schools you will see an occasional pretty face, but fewer

than I expected to see; and to my eyes the Hawaiian girl is rarely very

attractive. Among the middle-aged women, however, you often meet with fine

heads and large, expressive features. The women have not unfrequently

a majesty of carriage and a tragic intensity of features and expression

which are quite remarkable. Their loose dress gives grace as well as

dignity to their movements, and whoever invented it for them deserves

more credit than he has received. It is a little startling at first to see

women walking about in what, to our perverted tastes, look like calico

or black stuff night-gowns; but the dress grows on you as you become

accustomed to it; it lends itself readily to bright ornamentation; it

is eminently fit for the climate; and a stately Hawaiian dame, marching

through the street in black _holaku_--as the dress is called--with a long

necklace, or _le_, of bright scarlet or brilliant yellow flowers, bare and

untrammeled feet, and flowing hair, surmounted often by a low-crowned

felt hat, compares very favorably with a high-heeled, wasp-waisted,

absurdly-bonneted, fashionable white lady.

[Illustration: COCOA-NUT GROVE, AND RESIDENCE OF THE LATE KING KAMEHAMEHA

V., AT WAIKIKI, OAHU.]

As you travel through the country, you see not unfrequently one of

the tall, majestic, large women, who were formerly, it is said by old

residents, more numerous than now. I have been assured by several persons

that the race has dwindled in the last half century; and all old residents

speak with admiration of the great stature and fine forms of the chiefs

and their wives in the early days. It does not appear that these chiefs

were a distinct race, but they were despotic rulers of the common people;

and their greater stature is attributed by those who should know to their

being nourished on better food, and to easier circumstances and more

favorable surroundings.

When you have seen Honolulu and the Nuanu Valley, and bathed and drunk

cocoa-nut milk at Waikiki, you will be ready for a charming excursion--the

ride around the Island of Oahu. For this you should take several days. It

is most pleasantly made by a party of three or four persons, and ladies,

if they can sit in the saddle at all, can very well do it. You should

provide yourself with a pack-mule, which will carry not only spare

clothing but some provisions; and your guide ought to take care of your

horses and be able, if necessary, to cook you a lunch. The ride is easily

done in four days, and you will sleep every night at a plantation or farm.

The roads are excellent for riding, and carriages have made the journey.

It is best to set out by way of Pearl River and return by the Pali,

as thus you have the trade-wind in your face all the way. If you are

accustomed to ride, and can do thirty miles a day, you should sleep the

first night at or near Waialua, the next at or near what is called

the Mormon Settlement, and on the third day ride into Honolulu.

If ladies are of your party, and the stages must be shorter, you can

ride the first day to Ewa, which is but ten miles; the next, to Waialua,

eighteen miles further; the third, to the neighborhood of Kahuku, twelve

miles; thence to Kahana, fifteen miles; thence to Kaalaea, twelve miles;

and the next day carries you, by an easy ride of thirteen miles, into

Honolulu. Any one who can sit on a horse at all will enjoy this excursion,

and receive benefit from it; the different stages of it are so short that

each day's work is only a pleasure. On the way you will see, near Ewa,

the Pearl Lochs, which it has recently been proposed to cede as a

naval station to the United States; and near Waialua an interesting

boarding-school for Hawaiian girls, in which they are taught not only

in the usual school studies, but in sewing, and the various arts of the

housewife. If you are curious to see the high valley in which the famous

Waialua oranges are grown, you must take a day for that purpose. Between

Kahuku and Kahana it is worth while to make a detour into the mountains to

see the Kaliawa Falls, which are a very picturesque sight. The rock, at a

height of several hundred feet, has been curiously worn by the water into

the shape of a canoe. Here, also, the precipitous walls are covered

with masses of fine ferns. At Kahana, and also at Koloa, you will see

rice-fields, which are cultivated by Chinese. You pass also on your road

several sugar-plantations; and if it is the season of sugar-boiling,

you will be interested in this process. For miles you ride along the

sea-shore, and your guide will lead you to proper places for a midday

bath, preliminary to your lunch.

After leaving the Mormon Settlement, the scenery becomes very grand--it

is, indeed, as fine as any on the Islands, and compares well with any

scenery in the world. That it can be seen without severe toil gives it,

for such people as myself, no slight advantage over some other scenery

in these Islands and elsewhere, access to which can be gained only

by toilsome and disagreeable journeys. There is a blending of sea and

mountain which will dwell in your memory as not oppressively grand, and

yet fine enough to make you thankful that Providence has made the world so

lovely and fair.

As you approach the Pali, the mountain becomes a sheer precipice for some

miles, broken only by the gorge of the Pali, up which, if you are prudent,

you will walk, letting your horses follow with the guide--though Hawaiian

horsemen ride both up and down, and have been known to gallop down the

stone-paved and slippery steep. As you look up at these tall, gloomy

precipices, you will see one of the peculiarities of a Sandwich Island

landscape. The rocks are not bare, but covered from crown to base with

moss and ferns; and these cling so closely to the surface that to your

eye they seem to be but a short, close-textured green fuzz. In fact, these

great rocks, thus adorned, reminded me constantly of the rock scenery in

such operas as Fra Diavolo; the dark green being of a shade which I do

not remember to have seen before in nature, though it is not uncommon in

theatrical scenery.

The grass remains green, except in the dry districts, all the year round;

and the common grass of the Islands is the _maniania_, a fine creeping

grass which covers the ground with a dense velvety mat; and where it is

kept short by sheep makes an admirable springy lawn. It has a fine deep

color and bears drought remarkably well; and it is the favorite pasture

grass of the Islands. I do not think it as fattening as the alfilleria of

Southern California or our own timothy or blue grass; but it is a valuable

grass to the stockmen, because it eats out every other and less valuable

kind.

On your journey around Oahu you need a guide who can speak some English;

you must take with you on the pack-mule provisions for the journey; and

it is well to have a blanket for each of your party. You will sleep each

night in a native house, unless, as is very likely to be the case, you

have invitations to stop at plantation houses on your way. At the native

houses they will kill a chicken for you, and cook taro; but they have

no other supplies. You can usually get cocoa-nuts, whose milk is very

wholesome and refreshing. The journey is like a somewhat prolonged picnic;

the air is mild and pure; and you need no heavy clothing, for you are sure

of bright sunny weather.

For your excursions near Honolulu, and for the adventure I have described,

you can hire horses; though if you mean to stay a month or two it is

better to buy. A safe and good horse, well saddled and bridled, brought to

you every morning at the hotel, costs you a dollar a day. In that case

you have no care or responsibility for the animal. But unless there are

men-of-war in port you can buy a sufficiently good riding-horse for from

twelve to twenty-five dollars, and get something of your investment back

when you leave; and you can buy saddles and all riding-gear cheaply in

Honolulu. The maintenance of a horse in town costs not over fifty cents

per day.

Your guide for a journey ought to cost you a dollar a day, which includes

his horse; when you stop for the day he unsaddles your horses and ties

them out in a grass-field where they get sufficient nourishment. For your

accommodation at a native house, you ought to pay fifty cents for each

person of your party, including the guide. The proprietor of the Honolulu

hotel is very obliging and readily helps you to make all arrangements for

horses and guides; and if you have brought any letters of introduction, or

make acquaintances in the place, you will find every body ready to assist

you. Riding is the pleasantest way of getting about; but on Oahu the roads

are sufficiently good to drive considerable distances, and carriages are

easily obtainable.

One of the pleasant surprises which meet a northern traveler in these

islands is the number of strange dishes which appear on the table and in

the bill of fare. Strawberries, oranges--the sweetest and juiciest I have

eaten anywhere, except perhaps in Rio de Janeiro--bananas and cocoa-nuts,

you have at will; but besides these there are during the winter months the

guava, very nice when it is sliced like a tomato and eaten with sugar and

milk; taro, which is the potato of the country and, in the shape of poi,

the main subsistence of the native Hawaiian; bread-fruit; flying-fish,

the most tender and succulent of the fish kind; and, in their season,

the mango, the custard-apple, the alligator-pear, the water-melon, the

rose-apple, the ohia, and other fruits.

Taro, when baked, is an excellent and wholesome vegetable, and from its

leaves is cooked a fine substitute for spinach, called _luau_. Poi also

appears on your hotel table, being the national dish, of which many

foreigners have become very fond. It is very fattening and easily

digested, and is sometimes prescribed by physicians to consumptives.

As you drive about the suburbs of Honolulu you will see numerous taro

patches, and may frequently see the natives engaged in the preparation of

poi, which consists in baking the root or tuber in underground ovens, and

then mashing it very fine, so that if dry it would be a flour. It is

then mixed with water, and for native use left to undergo a slight

fermentation. Fresh or unfermented poi has a pleasant taste; when

fermented it tastes to me like book-binder's paste, and a liking for it

must be acquired rather than natural, I should say, with foreigners.

[Illustration: HAWAIIAN POI DEALER.]

So universal is its use among the natives that the manufacture of poi is

carried on now by steam-power and with Yankee machinery, for the sugar

planters; and the late king, who was avaricious and a trader, incurred the

dislike of his native subjects by establishing a poi-factory of his own

near Honolulu. Poi is sold in the streets in calabashes, but it is also

shipped in considerable quantities to other islands, and especially to

guano islands which lie southward and westward of this group. On these

lonely islets, many of which have not even drinking-water for the laborers

who live on them, poi and fish are the chief if not the only articles of

food. The fish, of course, are caught on the spot, but poi, water, salt,

and a few beef cattle for the use of the white superintendents are carried

from here.

Taro is a kind of _arum_. It grows, unlike any other vegetable I know of

unless it be rice, entirely under water. A taro patch is surrounded by

embankments; its bottom is of puddled clay; and in this the cutting, which

is simply the top of the plant with a little of the tuber, is set. The

plants are set out in little clumps in long rows, and a man at work in a

taro patch stands up to his knees in water. Forty square feet of taro, it

is estimated, will support a person for a year, and a square mile of

taro will feed over 15,000 Hawaiians.

[Illustration: THE PALACE, HONOLULU.]

By-the-way, you will hear the natives say _kalo_ when they speak of taro;

and by this and other words in common use you will presently learn of

a curious obliquity in their hearing. A Hawaiian does not notice any

difference in the sounds of _r_ and _l_, of _k_ and _t_, or of _b_, _p_,

and _f_. Thus the Pali, or precipice near Honolulu, is spoken of as the

Pari; the island of Kauai becomes to a resident of it Tauwai, though a

native of Oahu calls it Kauai; taro is almost universally called _kalo_;

and the common salutation, _Aloha_, which means "Love to you," and is the

national substitute for "How do you do?" is half the time _Aroha_; Lanai

is indifferently called Ranai; and Mauna Loa is in the mouths of most

Hawaiians Mauna Roa. Indeed, in the older charts the capital of the

kingdom is called Honoruru.

Society in Honolulu possesses some peculiar features, owing in part to the

singularly isolated situation of this little capital, and partly to the

composition of the social body. Honolulu is a capital city unconnected

with any other place in the world by telegraph, having a mail once a month

from San Francisco and New Zealand, and dependent during the remainder of

the month upon its own resources. To a New Yorker, who gets his news hot

and hot all day and night, and can't go to sleep without first looking

in at the Fifth Avenue Hotel to hear the latest item, this will seem

deplorable enough; but you have no idea how charming, how pleasant, how

satisfactory it is for a busy or overworked man to be thus for a while

absolutely isolated from affairs; to feel that for a month at least the

world must get on without your interfering hand; and though you may dread

beforehand this enforced separation from politics and business, you will

find it very pleasant in the actual experience.

As you stand upon the wharf in company with the élite of the kingdom to

watch the steamer depart, a great burden falls from your soul, because for

a month to come you have not the least responsibility for what may happen

in any part of the planet. Looking up at the black smoke of the departing

ship, you say to yourself, "Who cares?" Let what will happen, you are not

responsible. And so, with a light heart and an easy conscience, you get

on your horse (price $15), and about the time the lady passengers on the

steamer begin to turn green in face, you are sitting down on a spacious

_lanai_ or veranda, in one of the most delightful sea-side resorts in the

world, with a few friends who have determined to celebrate by a dinner

this monthly recurrence of their non-intercourse with the world.

[Illustration: EMMA, QUEEN OF KAMEHAMEHA IV.]

The people are surprisingly hospitable and kind and know how to make

strangers at home; they have leisure, and know how to use it pleasantly;

the climate controls their customs in many respects, and nothing is

pursued at fever heat as with us. What strikes you, when you have found

your way into Honolulu society and looked around, is a certain sensible

moderation and simplicity which is in part, I suspect, a remainder of the

old missionary influence; there is a certain amount of formality, which

is necessary to keep society from deteriorating, but there is no striving

after effect; there are, so far as a stranger discovers, no petty cliques

or cabals or coteries, and there is a very high average of intelligence:

they care about the best things.

They know how to dine; and having good cooks and sound digestions, they

add to these one requisite to pleasant dining which some more pretentious

societies are without: they have leisure. Nothing is done in haste in

Honolulu, where they have long ago convinced themselves that "to-morrow is

another day." Moreover, you find them well-read, without being blue; they

have not muddled their history by contradictory telegraphic reports of

matters of no consequence; in fact, so far as recent events are concerned,

they stand on tolerably firm ground, having perused only the last monthly

record of current events. Consequently, they have had time to read and

enjoy the best books; to follow with an intelligent interest the most

notable passing events; and as most of them come from families or have

lived among people who have had upon their own shoulders some conscious

share of government, political, moral, or religious, these talkers are

not pedantic, but agreeable. As to the ladies, you find them charming;

beautifully dressed, of course, but they have not given the whole day

and their whole minds to the dress; they are cheerful, easily excited to

gayety, long accustomed to take life easily, and eating as though they did

not know what dyspepsia was.

Indeed, when you have passed a month in the Islands you will have a better

opinion of idleness than you had before, though in some respects the odd

effects of a tropical climate will hardly meet your approval. Euchre,

for instance, takes the place here which whist holds elsewhere as the

amusement of sensible people.

[Illustration: A HAWAIIAN CHIEF.]

Finally, society in Honolulu is respectable. It is fashionable to be

virtuous, and if you were "fast," I think you would conceal it. The

Government has always encouraged respectability, and discountenanced vice.

The men who have ruled the Islands--not the missionaries alone, but the

political rulers since--have been plain, honest, and, in the main, wise

men; and they have kept politics respectable in the little monarchy. The

disreputable adventurer element which degrades our politics, and invades

society too, is not found here. You will say the rewards are not great

enough to attract this vile class. Perhaps not; but at any rate it is not

there; and I do not know, in short, where else in the world you would find

so kindly, so gracefully hospitable, and, at the same time, so simple and

enjoyable a society as that of Honolulu.

No one can visit the Islands without being impressed by the boundless

hospitality of the sugar planters, who, with their superintendents

and managers, form, away from the few towns, almost the only white

inhabitants. Hospitality so free-handed is, I suspect, found in few

other parts of the world. Though Honolulu has now a commodious hotel, the

residents keep up their old habits of graceful welcome to strangers. The

capital has an excellent band, which plays in public places several times

a week; and it does not lack social entertainments, parties, and dinners,

to break the monotony of life. Not only the residents of foreign birth,

but a few Hawaiians also, people of education, culture, and means,

entertain gracefully and frequently.

As for the common people, they are by nature or long custom, or both, as

kindly and hospitable as men can be. If you ask for lodgings at night-fall

at a native hut, you are received as though you were conferring a favor;

frequently the whole house, which has but one room, is set apart for you,

the people going elsewhere to sleep; a chicken is slain in your honor, and

for your exclusive supper; and you are served by the master of the house

himself. The native grass-house, where it has been well built, is a very

comfortable structure. It has but a single room, calico curtains serving

as partitions by night; at one end a standing bed-place, running across

the house, provides sleeping accommodations for the whole family, however

numerous. This bed consists of mats; and the covers are either of tapa

cloth--which is as though you should sleep under newspapers--or of

blankets. The more prosperous people have often, besides this, an enormous

bedstead curtained off and reserved for strangers; and you may see the

women take out of their chests, when you ask hospitality, blankets,

sheets, and a great number of little pillows for the bed, as well as often

a brilliant silk coverlet; for this bed appears to be like a Cape Cod

parlor--for ornament rather than use. The use of the dozen little pillows

puzzled me, until I found that they were intended to tuck or wedge me in,

so that I should not needlessly and uncomfortably roll about the vast bed.

They were laid at the sides, and I was instructed to "chock" myself with

them. On leaving, do not inquire what is the cost of your accommodations.

The Hawaiian has vague ideas about price. He might tell you five or ten

dollars; but if you pay him seventy-five cents for yourself and your

guide, he will be abundantly and thoroughly satisfied.

[Illustration: THE CRATER OF KILAUEA--ONE PHASE.]

CHAPTER II.

HILO, WITH SOME VOLCANOES.

Hilo, as you will perceive on the map, lies on the eastern or windward

side of the Island of Hawaii. You get there in the little inter-island

steamer _Kilauea_, named after the volcano, and which makes a weekly tour

of all the Islands except far-off Kauai, which it visits but once a month.

The charge for passage is fifteen dollars from Honolulu to Hilo, and

twenty-five dollars for the round trip.

The cabin is small; and as you are likely to have fine weather, you will,

even if you are a lady, pass the time more pleasantly on deck, where the

steward, a Goa man and the most assiduous and tactful of his trade, will

place a mattress and blankets for you. You must expect to suffer somewhat

from sea-sickness if you are subject to that ill, for the passage is not

unlikely to be rough. On the way you see Lahaina, and a considerable part

of the islands of Maui and Hawaii; in fact, you are never out of sight of

land.

If you start on Monday evening you will reach Hilo on Wednesday--and

"about this time expect rain," as the almanac-makers say. They get about

seventeen feet of rain at Hilo during the year; and as they have sometimes

several days without any at all, you must look for not only frequent but

heavy showers. A Hilo man told me of a curious experiment which was once

made there. They knocked the heads out of an oil-cask--so he said--and it

rained in at the bung-hole faster than it could run out at the ends. You

may disbelieve this story if you please; I tell it as it was told me; but

in any case you will do well to provide yourself for Hilo and the volcano

journey with stout water-proof clothing.

Hilo, on those days when the sun shines, is one of the prettiest places on

the Islands. If you are so fortunate as to enter the bay on a fine day

you will see a very tropical landscape--a long, pleasant, curved sweep of

beach, on which the surf is breaking, and beyond, white houses nestling

among cocoa-nut groves, and bread-fruit, pandanus, and other Southern

trees, many of them bearing brilliant flowers; with shops and stores along

the beach. Men and boys sporting in the surf, and men and women dashing on

horseback over the beach, make up the life of the scene.

Hilo has no hotel; it has not even a carriage; but it has a very

agreeable and intelligent population of Americans, and you will find good

accommodations at the large house of Mr. Severance, the sheriff of Hawaii.

If his house should be full you need not be alarmed, for some one will

take you in.

This is the usual and most convenient point of departure for the volcano.

Here you hire horses and a guide for the journey. Having gone to Hilo on

the steamer, you will do best to return to Honolulu by schooner, which

leaves you at liberty to choose your point and time of departure. Hawaii

lies to windward of Oahu; and a schooner, which might need four or

five days to beat up to Hilo, will run down from any part of Hawaii in

twenty-four hours. If you are an energetic traveler, determined to see

every thing, and able to endure a good deal of rough riding, you may spend

six weeks on Hawaii. In that time you may not only see the active volcano

of Kilauea, but may ascend Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea, whose immense slopes

and lofty and in the winter snow-clad summits show gloriously on a clear

day from Hilo; and you may ride from Hilo along the north-eastern

coast, through the Hamakua and Kohala districts, ending your journey at

Kealakeakua Bay where Captain Cook was killed. There you can take schooner

for Honolulu; or if your energies hold out ride through Kau and Puna

back to Hilo.

The Hamakua and Hilo coasts you will see from the steamer, which sails

close along this bold and picturesque shore on her way to Hilo. This part

of the island is but an extension of the vast slope of Mauna Kea; and

all the waters which drain from its cloud-laden summit pour into the

sea through numerous deep channels, or gorges which they have worn for

themselves, and occasionally dash into the ocean from high cliffs, forming

water-falls visible from the ship's deck. Of the gorges or cañons, there

are seventy-nine in a distance of about thirty miles; many of them are

from five to eight hundred feet deep; and as you ride along the coast, you

have no sooner emerged from one of these deep pits than you descend by a

road seldom easy, and often very steep indeed, into another. The sides of

these gorges are lined with masses of the most magnificent ferns, and at

their bottoms you find sparkling streams; and as you look up the cañons

you see picturesque water-falls. In short, to the lover of bold and

strange scenery this ride offers many pleasures; and that its difficulties

may not be exaggerated to any one's apprehension, I will mention that

during the spring of 1873 an English lady, taking with her only a native

woman as guide, made the tour of the whole seventy-nine gulches, and

thought herself amply rewarded for her toils by what she saw. As for

myself, I must confess that four of these gulches--the four nearest

Hilo--satisfied me; these I saw in visiting some sugar-plantations.

[Illustration: KEALAKEAKUA BAY, WHERE CAPTAIN COOK WAS KILLED.]

If you do not intend such a thorough exploration of Hawaii, but mean only

to see the volcano of Kilauea, your pleasantest plan is to ride from Hilo

by the direct road to the crater, and return by way of Puna. You will have

ridden a trifle over one hundred miles through a very remarkable and in

some parts a beautiful country; you will have slept one night in a native

house, and will have seen much of Hawaiian life, and enjoyed a tiring but

at the same time a very novel journey, and some sights which can not be

matched outside of Iceland. To do this, and spend two or three days in

pleasant sight-seeing near Hilo, will bring you back to Honolulu in from

twelve to fourteen days after you left it.

Your traveling expenses will be sufficiently moderate. At Hilo you pay for

board and lodgings eight dollars per week. The charge for horses is ten

dollars each for the volcano journey, with a dollar a day for your guide.

This guide relieves you of all care of the animals, and is useful in

various ways. At the Volcano House the charge for horse and man is five

dollars per day, and you pay half-price for your guide. There is a charge

of one dollar for a special guide into the crater, which is made in your

bill, and you will do well to promise this guide, when you go in, a small

gratuity--half a dollar, or, if your party is large, a dollar--if he gives

you satisfaction. He will get you specimens, carry a shawl for a lady, and

make himself in other ways helpful.

[Illustration: THE VOLCANO HOUSE.]

When you get on your horse at Hilo for the volcano, leave behind you all

hope of good roads. You are to ride for thirty miles over a lava bed,

along a narrow trail as well made as it could be without enormous expense,

but so rough, so full of mud-holes filled with broken lava in the first

part of the journey, and so entirely composed of naked, jagged, and ragged

lava in the remainder, that one wonders how the horses stand it. A canter,

except for two or three miles near the Volcano House, is almost out of the

question; and though the Hawaiians trot and gallop the whole distance, a

stranger will scarcely follow their example.

You should insist, by-the-way, upon having all your horses reshod the day

before they leave Hilo; and it is prudent, even then, to take along an

extra pair of shoes and a dozen or two horse-nails. The lava is extremely

trying to the horse's shoes; and if your horse casts a shoe he will go

lame in fifteen minutes, for the jagged lava cuts almost like glass.

Moreover, do not wait for a fine day; it will probably rain at any rate

before you reach the Volcano House, and your wisest way is to set out

resolutely, rain or shine, on the appointed morning, for the sun may

come out two or three hours after you have started in a heavy rain. Each

traveler should take his water-proof clothing upon his own saddle--it may

be needed at any time--and the pack-mule should carry not only the spare

clothing, well covered with India-rubber blankets, but also an abundant

lunch to be eaten at the Half-way House.

India-rubber or leather leggings, and a long, sleeveless Mackintosh seemed

to me the most comfortable and sufficient guards against weather. Ladies

should ride astride; they will be most comfortable thus. There are no

steep ascents or abrupt descents on the way. Kilauea is nearly four

thousand feet higher than the sea from which you set out; but the rise

is so gradual and constant that if the road were good one might gallop a

horse the whole distance.

You should set out not later than half-past seven, and make up your mind

not to be hurried on the way. There are people who make the distance

in six hours, and boast about it; but I accomplished it with a party of

ladies and children in ten hours with very little discomfort, and did not

envy the six-hour people. There is nothing frightful, or dangerous, or

disagreeable about the journey, even to ladies not accustomed to riding;

and there is very much that is new, strange, and wonderful to Americans

or Europeans. Especially you will be delighted with the great variety and

beauty of the ferns, which range from minute and delicate species to the

dark and grand fronds of the tree-fern, which rises in the more elevated

region to a height of twenty feet, and whose stalk has sometimes a

diameter of three or four feet. From a variety of this tree-fern the

natives take a substance called pulu, a fine, soft, brown fuzz, used for

stuffing pillows and mattresses.

Your guide will probably understand very little English: let him be

instructed in your wishes before you set out. The native Hawaiian is the

most kind and obliging creature in the world, and you will find your guide

ready to do you every needful service. You can get nothing to eat on the

road, except perhaps a little sugar-cane; therefore you must provide a

sufficient lunch. At the Half-way House, but probably nowhere else, you

will get water to drink.

When you reach the Volcano House, I advise you to take a sulphur

vapor-bath, refreshing after a tedious ride; and after supper you will sit

about a big open fire and recount the few incidents and adventures of the

day.

The next day you give to the crater. Unless the night is very foggy you

will have gone to sleep with the lurid light of Kilauea in your eyes.

Madame Pele, the presiding goddess of the volcano, exhibits fine

fire-works at night sometimes, and we saw the lava spurting up in the air

above the edge of the smaller and active crater, one night, in a quite

lively manner. On a moderately clear night the light from the burning

lakes makes a very grand sight; and the bedrooms at the little Volcano

House are so placed that you have Madame Pele's fire-works before you all

night.

The house stands but a few feet from the edge of the great crater, and you

have no tedious preliminary walk, but begin your descent into the pit

at once. For this you need stout shoes, light clothing, and, if you have

ladies in your party, a heavy shawl for each. The guide takes with him a

canteen of water, and also carries the shawls. You should start about

nine o'clock, and give the whole day to the crater, returning to dinner at

five.

The great crater of Kilauea is nine miles in circumference, and perhaps

a thousand feet deep. It is, in fact, a deep pit, bounded on all sides

by precipitous rocks. The entrance is effected by a series of steps, and

below these by a scramble over lava and rock debris. It is not difficult,

but the ascent is tiresome; and it is a prudent precaution, if you have

ladies with you, to take a native man for each lady, to assist her over

the rougher places, and up the steep ascent. The greater part of the

crater was, when I saw it, a mass of dead, though not cold lava; and over

this you walk to the farthest extremity of the pit, where you must ascend

a tolerably steep hill of lava, which is the bank of the fiery lake. The

distance from the Volcano House to the edge of this lake is, by the road

you take, three miles.

[Illustration: HAWAIIAN TEMPLE, FROM A RUSSIAN ENGRAVING, ABOUT 1790.]

The goddess Pele, who, according to the Hawaiian mythology, presides over

Kilauea, is, as some say all her sex are, variable, changeable, mutable.

What I shall tell you about the appearance of the crater and lake is true

of that time; it may not have been correct a week later; it was certainly

not true of a month before. We climbed into the deep pit, and then

stood upon a vast floor of lava, rough, jammed together, broken, jagged,

steaming out a hot sulphurous breath at almost every seam, revealing rolls

of later lava injections at every deep crack, with caverns and high ridges

where the great mass, after cooling, was forced together, and with a steep

mountain-side of lava at our left, along the foot of which we clambered.

This floor of lava, which seems likely to be a more or less permanent

feature, was, three or four years ago, upon a level with the top of the

high ridge, or ledge, whose base you skirt. The main part of the crater

was then a floor of lava vaster even than it now is. Suddenly one day, and

with a crash which persuaded one or two persons at the Volcano House that

the whole planet was flying to pieces, the greater part of this lava floor

sank down, or fell down, a depth of about five hundred feet, to the level

whereon we now walked. The wonderful tale was plain to us as we examined

the details on the spot. It was as though a top-heavy and dried-out

pie-crust had fallen in in the middle, leaving a part of the circumference

bent down, but clinging at the outside to the dish.

[Illustration: LAVA FIELD, HAWAII--FLOW OF 1868.]

After this great crash the lava seems from time to time to have boiled up

from beneath through cracks, and now lies in great rolls upon the surface,

or in the deeper cracks. It is related that later the lake or caldron at

the farther end of the crater boiled over, and sent down streams of lava

which meandered over the black plain; that, continuing to boil over at

intervals, this lake increased the height of its own banks, for the lava

cools very rapidly; and thus was built up a high hill, which we ascended

after crossing the lava plains, in order to look down, in fear and wonder,

upon the awful sight below. What we saw there on the 3d of March, 1873,

was two huge pits, caldrons, or lakes, filled with a red, molten, fiery,

sulphurous, raging, roaring, restless mass of matter, to watch whose

unceasing tumult was one of the most fascinating experiences of my life.

The two lakes were then separated by a narrow and low-lying ledge

or peninsula of lava, which I was told they frequently overflow, and

sometimes entirely melt down. Standing upon the northern bank we could see

both lakes, and we estimated their shortest diameter to be about 500 feet,

and the longest about one-eighth of a mile. Within this pit the surface of

the molten lava was about eighty feet below us. It has been known to sink

down 400 feet; last December it was overflowing the high banks and sending

streams of lava into the great plain by which we approached it; and since

I saw it, it has risen to within a few feet of the top of the bank,

and has forced a way out at one side, where, in September, 1873, it was

flowing out slowly on to the great lava plain which forms the bottom of

the main crater.

What, therefore, Madame Pele will show you hereafter is uncertain. What we

saw was this: two large lakes or caldrons, each nearly circular, with

the lower shelf or bank, red-hot, from which the molten lava was repelled

toward the centre without cessation. The surface of these lakes was of a

lustrous and beautiful gray, and this, which was a cooling and tolerably

solid scum, was broken by jagged circles of fire, which appeared of a

vivid rose-color in contrast with the gray. These circles, starting at

the red-hot bank or shore, moved more or less rapidly toward the centre,

where, at intervals of perhaps a minute, the whole mass of lava suddenly

but slowly bulged up, burst the thin crust, and flung aloft a huge, fiery

wave, which sometimes shot as high as thirty feet in the air. Then ensued

a turmoil, accompanied with hissing, and occasionally with a dull roar as

the gases sought to escape, and spray was flung in every direction; and

presently the agitation subsided, to begin again in the same place, or

perhaps in another.

Meantime the fiery rings moved forward perpetually toward the centre, a

new one re-appearing at the shore before the old was ingulfed; and not

unfrequently the mass of lava was so fiercely driven by some force from

the bank near which we stood, that it was ten or fifteen feet higher

near the centre than at the circumference. Thus somewhat of the depth was

revealed to us, and there seemed something peculiarly awful to me in the

fierce glowing red heat of the shores themselves, which never cooled with

exposure to the air and light.

Thus acted the first of the two lakes. But when, favored by a strong

breeze, we ventured farther, to the side of the furthermost one, a still

more terrible spectacle greeted us. The mass in this lake was in yet more

violent agitation; but it spent its fury upon the precipitous southern

bank, against which it dashed with a vehemence equal to a heavy surf

breaking against cliffs. It had undermined this lava cliff, and for a

space of perhaps one hundred and fifty feet the lava beat and surged into

glaring, red-hot, cavernous depths, and was repelled with a dull, heavy

roar, not exactly like the boom of breakers, because the lava is so much

heavier than water, but with a voice of its own, less resonant, and, as we

who listened thought, full of even more deadly fury.

It seems a little absurd to couple the word "terrible" with any action of

mere inanimate matter, from which, after all, we stood in no very evident

peril. Yet "terrible" is the only word for it. Grand it was not, because

in all its action and voice it seemed infernal. Though its movement is

slow and deliberate, it would scarcely occur to you to call either the

constant impulse from one side toward the other, or the vehement and vast

bulging of the lava wave as it explodes its thin crust or dashes a fiery

mass against the cliff, majestic, for devilish seems a better word.

Meantime, though we were favored with a cool and strong breeze, bearing

the sulphurous stench of the burning lake away from us, the heat of the

lava on which we stood, at least eighty feet above the pit, was so great

as to be almost unendurable. We stood first upon one foot, and then on the

other, because the soles of our feet seemed to be scorching through thick

shoes. A lady sitting down upon a bundle of shawls had to rise because the

wraps began to scorch; our faces seemed on fire from the reflection of

the heat below; the guide's tin water-canteen, lying near my feet, became

presently so hot that it burned my fingers when I took it up; and at

intervals there came up from behind us a draught of air so hot, and so

laden with sulphur that, even with the strong wind carrying it rapidly

away, it was scarcely endurable. It was while we were coughing and

spluttering at one of these hot blasts, which came from the numerous

fissures in the lava which we had passed over, that a lady of our party

remarked that she had read an excellent description of this place in the

New Testament; and so far as I observed, no one disagreed with her.

After the lakes came the cones. When the surface of this lava is so

rapidly cooling that the action below is too weak to break it, the gases

forcing their way out break small vents, through which lava is then

ejected. This, cooling rapidly as it comes to the outer air, forms by its

accretions a conical pipe of greater or less circumference, and sometimes

growing twenty or thirty feet high, open at the top, and often with

openings also blown out at the sides. There are several of these cones on

the summit bank of the lake, all ruined, as it seemed to me, by some too

violent explosion, which had blown off most of the top, and in one case

the whole of it, leaving then only a wide hole.

Into these holes we looked, and saw a very wonderful and terrible sight.

Below us was a stream of lava, rolling and surging and beating against

huge, precipitous, red-hot cliffs; and, higher up, suspended from other,

also red or white hot overhanging cliffs, depended huge stalactites, like

masses of fiercely glowing fern leaves waving about in the subterraneous

wind; and here we saw how thin was in some such places the crust over

which we walked, and how near the melting-point must be its under surface.

For, as far as we could judge, these little craters or cones rested upon

a crust not thicker than twelve or fourteen inches, and one fierce blast

from below seemed sufficient to melt away the whole place. Fortunately

one can not stay very long near these openings, for they exhale a very

poisonous breath; and so we were drawn back to the more fascinating but

less perilous spectacle of the lakes; and then back over the rough lava,

our minds filled with memories of a spectacle which is certainly one of

the most remarkable our planet affords.

When you have seen the fiery lakes you will recognize a crater at sight,

and every part of Hawaii and of the other islands will have a new interest

for you;

[Illustration: VIEW OF THE CRATER OF SOUTH LAKE IN A STATE OF ERUPTION,

FROM THE CREST OF THE NORTH LAKE.]

for all are full of craters, and from Kilauea to the sea you may trace

several lines of craters, all extinct, but all at some time belching forth

those interminable lava streams over which you ride by the way of the Puna

coast for nearly seventy miles back to Hilo.

I advise you to take this way back. Almost the whole of it is a land of

desolation. A narrow trail across unceasing beds of lava, a trail which

in spots was actually hammered down to make it smooth enough for horses'

feet, and outside of whose limits in most places your horse will refuse to

go, because he knows it is too rough for beast or man: this is your road.

Most of the lava is probably very ancient, though some is quite recent;

and ferns and guava bushes and other scanty herbage grow through it.

In some of the cavernous holes, which denote probably ancient cones or

huge lava bubbles, you will see a cocoa-nut-tree or a pandanus trying to

subsist; and by-and-by, after a descent to the sea-shore, you are rewarded

with the pleasant sight of groves of cocoa-nuts and umbrageous arbors of

pandanus, and occasionally with a patch of green.

Almost the whole of the Puna coast is waterless. From the Volcano House

you take with you not only food for the journey back to Hilo, but water in

bottles; and your thirsty animals get none until you reach the end of

your first day's journey, at Kaimu. Here, also, you can send a more than

half-naked native into the trees for cocoa-nuts, and drink your fill

of their refreshing milk, while your jaded horses swallow bucketfuls of

rain-water.

[Illustration: HILO.]

It will surprise you to find people living among the lava, making

potato-patches in it, planting coffee and some fruit-trees in it, fencing

in their small holdings, even, with lava blocks. Very little soil is

needed to give vegetation a chance in a rainy reason, and the decomposed

lava makes a rich earth. But except the cocoa-nut which grows on

the beach, and seems to draw its sustenance from the waves, and the

sweet-potato, which does very well among the lava, nothing seems really to

thrive.

It will add much to the pleasure of your journey to Kilauea if you carry

with you, to read upon the spot and along the road, Brigham's valuable

Memoir on the Hawaiian Volcanoes. With this in hand, you will comprehend

the nature, and know also the very recent date of some important changes,

caused by earthquakes and lava flows, on the Puna coast. Near and at

Kaimu, for instance, there has been an apparent subsidence of the land,

which is supposed in reality, however, I believe, to have been caused

rather by the breaking off of a vast lava ledge or overhang, on which,

covered as it was with earth and trees, a considerable population had long

lived. In front of the native house in which you will sleep, at Kaimu,

part of a large grove of cocoa-nut-trees was thus submerged, and you may

see the dead stumps still sticking up out of the surf.

Kaimu is twenty-five miles from the Volcano House. The native house

at which you will pass the night is clean, and you may there enjoy the

novelty of sleeping on Hawaiian mats, and under the native cover of tapa.

You must bring with you tea or coffee, sugar, and bread, and such other

food as is necessary to your comfort. Sweet-potatoes and bananas, and

chickens caught after you arrive, with abundant cocoa-nuts, are the

supplies of the place. The water is not good, and you will probably drink

only cocoa-nut milk, until, fifteen miles farther on, at Captain Eldart's,

you find a pleasant and comfortable resting-place for the second night,

with a famous natural warm bath, very slightly mineral. Thence a ride of

twenty-three miles brings you back to Hilo, all of it over lava, most of

it through a sterile country, but with one small burst of a real paradise

of tropical luxuriance, a mile of tall forest and jungle, which looks more

like Brazil than Hawaii.

One advantage of returning by way of the Puna coast, rather than by the

direct route from Kilauea, is that you have clear, bright weather all the

way. The configuration of the coast makes Puna sunny while Hilo is rainy.

If you desire a longer ride than that by the Puna coast, you can cross

the island, from the Volcano House, by way of Waiahino and Kapapala to

Kauwaloa on the western coast, whence a schooner will bear you back to

Honolulu. A brief study of the map of Hawaii in this volume will show the

different routes suggested in this chapter.

Moreover, when you are at Kilauea, you have done something toward

the ascent of Mauna Loa; and guides, provisions, and animals for that

enterprise can be obtained at the Volcano House, as well as such ample

details of the route that I will not here attempt any directions. It is

not an easy ride; and you must carry with you warm clothing. A gentleman

who slept at the summit in September, 1873, told me the ice made over two

inches thick during the night.

If Mauna Loa is active, a traveler on the Islands ought by all means to

see it; for Dr. Coan assures me that it is then one of the most terrific

and grand sights imaginable. I did not visit it, as it was not active

while I was on the Islands, though its fires were alive. The crater is a

pit about three miles in circumference, with precipitous banks about two

thousand feet deep. At the bottom is the burning lake, which has a curious

habit of throwing up a jet, more or less constant, of fiery lava, to the

height, this last summer, of four or five hundred feet from the surface of

the lake. It is a fine sight, but, of course, somewhat distant. I am

told that this jet has at times reached nearly to the summit level of the

crater; and it must then have been a glorious spectacle.

[Illustration: SURF BATHING.]

Near Hilo are some pretty water-falls and several sugar plantations, to

which you can profitably give a couple of days, and on another you should

visit Cocoa-nut Island, and--as interesting a spot as almost any on the

Islands--a little lagoon on the main-land near by, in which you may see

the coral growing, and pick it up in lovely specimens with the stones upon

which it has built in these shallow and protected waters. Moreover,

the surf-beaten rocks near by yield cowries and other shells in some

abundance; and I do not know anywhere of a pleasanter picnic day than that

you can spend there.

Finally, Hilo is one of the very few places on these islands where you

can see a truly royal sport--the surf-board. It requires a rough day and

a heavy surf, but with a good day it is one of the finest sights in the

world.

The surf-board is a tough plank about two feet wide and from six to twenty

feet long, usually made of the bread-fruit-tree. Armed with these, a party

of tall, muscular natives swim out to the first line of breakers, and,

watching their chance to duck under this, make their way finally, by the

help of the under-tow, into the smooth water far off: beyond all the surf.

Here they bob up and down on the swell like so many ducks, watching their

opportunity. What they seek is a very high swell, before which they place

themselves, lying or kneeling on the surf-board. The great wave dashes

onward, but as its bottom strikes the ground, the top, unretarded in its

speed and force, breaks into a huge comber, and directly before this the

surf-board swimmer is propelled with a speed which we timed and found to

exceed forty miles per hour. In fact, he goes like lightning, always just

ahead of the breaker, and apparently downhill, propelled by the vehement

impulse of the roaring wave behind him, yet seeming to have a speed and

motion of his own.

It is a very surprising sight to see three or four men thus dashed for

nearly a mile toward the shore at the speed of an express train, every

moment about to be overwhelmed by a roaring breaker, whose white crest

was reared high above and just behind them, but always escaping this

ingulfment, and propelled before it. They look, kneeling or lying on their

long surf-boards, more like some curious and swift-swimming fish--like

dolphins racing, as it seemed to me--than like men. Once in a while, by

some mischance the cause of which I could not understand, the swimmer

_was_ overwhelmed; the great comber overtook him; he was flung over and

over like a piece of wreck, but instantly dived, and re-appeared beyond

and outside of the wave, ready to take advantage of the next. A successful

shot launched them quite high and dry on the beach far beyond where we

stood to watch. Occasionally a man would stand erect upon his surf-board,

balancing himself in the boiling surf without apparent difficulty.

The surf-board play is one of the ancient sports of Hawaii. I am told that

few of the younger generation are capable of it, and that it is thought to

require great nerve and coolness even among these admirable swimmers, and

to be not without danger.

In your journeys to the different islands you need to take with you, as

part of your baggage, saddle and bridle, and all the furniture of a horse.

You can hire or buy a horse anywhere very cheaply; but saddles are often

unattainable, and always difficult to either borrow or hire. "You might as

well travel here without your boots as without your saddle," said a friend

to me; and I found it literally true, not only for strangers, but for

residents as well. Thus you may notice that the little steamer's hold,

as she leaves Honolulu, contains but few trunks; but is crowded with a

considerable collection of saddles and saddle-bags, the latter the most

convenient receptacles for your change of clothing.

Riding on Hawaii is often tiresome, even to one accustomed to the saddle,

by reason of the slow pace at which you are compelled to move. Wherever

you stop, for lunch or for the night, if there are native people near,

you will be greatly refreshed by the application of what they call

"lomi-lomi." Almost everywhere you will find some one skillful in this

peculiar and, to tired muscles, delightful and refreshing treatment.

To be lomi-lomied, you lie down upon a mat, loosening your clothing, or

undressing for the night if you prefer. The less clothing you have on the

more perfectly the operation can be performed. To you thereupon comes a

stout native, with soft, fleshy hands but a strong grip, and, beginning

with your head and working down slowly over the whole body, seizes

and squeezes with a quite peculiar art every tired muscle, working and

kneading with indefatigable patience, until in half an hour, whereas you

were sore and weary and worn-out, you find yourself fresh, all soreness

and weariness absolutely and entirely removed, and mind and body soothed

to a healthful and refreshing sleep.

The lomi-lomi is used not only by the natives, but among almost all

the foreign residents; and not merely to procure relief from weariness

consequent on overexertion, but to cure headache, to relieve the aching

of neuralgic or rheumatic pains, and, by the luxurious, as one of the

pleasures of life. I have known it to relieve violent headache in a very

short time. The old chiefs used to keep skillful lomi-lomi men and women

in their retinues; and the late king, who was for some years too stout to

take exercise, and was yet a gross feeder, had himself lomi-lomied after

every meal, as a means of helping his digestion.

It is a device for relieving pain or weariness which seems to have no

injurious reaction and no drawback but one--it is said to fatten the

subjects of it.

[Illustration: LAHAINA, ISLAND OF MAUI.]

CHAPTER III.

MAUI, AND THE SUGAR CULTURE.

Maui lies between Oahu and Hawaii, and is somewhat larger than the

first-named island. It contains the most considerable sugar-plantations,

and yields more of this product than any one of the other islands. It is

notable also for possessing the mountain of Haleakala, an extinct volcano

ten thousand feet high, which has the largest crater in the world--a

monstrous pit, thirty miles in circumference, and two thousand feet deep.

There is some reason to believe that Maui was originally two islands,

the northern and southern parts being joined together by an immense sandy

plain, so low that in misty weather it is hardly to be distinguished from

the ocean; and some years ago a ship actually ran aground upon it, sailing

for what the captain imagined to be an open passage.

Maui has also the famous Wailuku Valley, a picturesque gorge several miles

deep, and giving you a very fair example of the broken, verdure-clad, and

now lonely valleys of these islands; which are in reality steep, narrow

cañons, worn out of the mountains by the erosion of water. The old

Hawaiians seem to have cared little how difficult a piece of country was;

they not only made their taro patches in the streams which roar at the

bottoms of such gorges, but they fought battles among the precipices which

you find at the upper ends of these valleys, where the defeated usually

met their deaths by plunging down into the stream far below.

After seeing a live or burning crater like Kilauea, Haleakala, I thought,

would be but a dull sight; but it is, on the contrary, extremely well

worth a visit. The islands have no sharp or angular volcanic peaks.

Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea, on Hawaii, though 14,000 feet high, are mere

bulbs--vast hills, not mountains; and the ascent to the summit of

Haleakala, though you surmount 10,000 feet, is neither dangerous nor

difficult. It is tedious, however, for it involves a ride of about twelve

miles, mostly over lava, uphill. It is best to ride up during the day, and

sleep at or near the summit, where there are one or two so-called caves in

the lava, broken lava-bubbles in fact, sufficiently roomy to accommodate

several persons. You must take with you a guide, provisions, and blankets,

for the nights are cold; and you find near the summit water, wood enough

for a small fire, and forage for your horses. Each person should have

water-proof clothing, for it is very likely to rain, at least on the

Makawao side.

[Illustration: CASCADE AND RIVER OF LAVA--FLOW OF 1869.]

The great crater is best seen at sunrise, and, if you are so fortunate

as to have a tolerably clear sky, you may see, lying far away below you,

almost all of the islands. Hawaii lies far enough away to reveal its

entire outline, with Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea rising near either end, and

the depression near which lies Kilauea in the middle. The cloud effects at

sunrise and sunset are marvelous, and alone repay the ascent.

But the crater itself, clear of fog and clouds in the early morning, and

lighted up by the rising sun, is a most surprising sight. It is ten miles

in diameter, and the bottom lies 2000 feet below where you stand. The vast

irregular floor contains more than a dozen subsidiary craters or great

cones, some of them 750 feet high, and nearly as large as Diamond Head. At

the Kaupo and Koolau gaps, indicated on the map, the lava is supposed to

have burst through and made its way down the mountain sides. The cones are

distinctly marked as you look down upon them; and it is remarkable that

from the summit the eye takes in the whole crater, and notes all its

contents, diminished of course by their great distance. Not a tree, shrub,

or even tuft of grass obstructs the view.

To describe such a scene is impossible. A study of the map, with the

figures showing elevations, will give you a better idea of it than a long

verbal description. It is an extraordinarily desolate scene. A few wild

goats scramble over the rocks, or rush down the nearly perpendicular

cliff; occasionally a solitary bird raises its harsh note; the wind howls

fiercely; and as you lie under the lee of a mass of lava, taking in the

scene and picking out the details as the rising sun brings them out one by

one, presently the mist begins to pour into the crater, and often by ten

o'clock fills it up completely.

The natives have no tradition of Haleakala in activity. There are signs

of several lava flows, and of one in particular, clearly much more recent

than the others. It must have presented a magnificent and terrible sight

when it was in full activity. I did not ride into the crater, but it is

possible to do so, and the natives have a trail, not much used, by which

they pass. If you descend, be careful not to leave or lose this trail, for

in many parts your horse will not be able to get back to it if you suffer

him to stray off even a few yards, the lava is so sharp and jagged. As you

descend the mountain on the Makawao side you will notice two finely shaped

craters on the side of the mountain, which also in their time spewed out

lava. Nearer the coast your eye, become familiar with the peculiar

shape of these cones or craters, will notice yet others; and, indeed, to

appreciate the peculiarities of Sandwich Island scenery, in which extinct

craters and cones of all sizes have so great a part, it is necessary to

have visited Kilauea and Haleakala. The latter name, by-the-way,

means "House of the Sun;" and as you watch the rising sun entering and

apparently taking possession of the vast gloomy depths, you will think the

name admirably chosen.

If you carry a gun you are likely to have a shot at wild turkeys on your

way up or down. It is remarkable that many of our domestic animals easily

become wild on the islands. There are wild goats, wild cats, wild chickens

and turkeys; the cattle run wild; and on Hawaii one man at least has been

killed and torn to pieces by wild dogs, which run in packs in some parts

of the island.

Sugar plantations are found on all four of the larger islands; and on

all of them there are successful examples of this enterprise; but Maui

contains, I believe, the greatest number, and is thought to be the best

fitted for the business. It is on this island, therefore, that the curious

traveler can see this industry under its most favorable aspects. There

is no doubt that for the production of sugar these islands offer some

extraordinary advantages.

[Illustration: MAP OF THE HALEAKALA CRATER.]

I have seen a field of thirty acres which two years ago produced nearly

six tons of sugar to the acre. Four tons per acre is not a surprising

crop; and, from all I can hear, I judge that two and a half tons per acre

may be considered a fair yield. The soil, too, with proper treatment,

appears to be inexhaustible. The common custom is to take off two crops,

and then let the field lie fallow for two years; but where they irrigate

even this is not always done. There is no danger of frost, as in

Louisiana, and cane is planted in some part of the islands in almost

every month of the year. In Lahaina it matures in from fourteen to sixteen

months; in some districts it requires eighteen months; and at greater

altitudes even two years.

But under all the varying circumstances, whether it is irrigated or not,

whether it grows on bottoms or on hill slopes, in dry or in damp regions,

everywhere the cane seems to thrive, and undoubtedly it is the one product

of the islands which succeeds. A worm, which pierces the cane near the

ground and eats out the pith, has of late, I am told, done some damage,

and in some parts the rat has proved troublesome. But these evils do not

anywhere endanger or ruin the crop, as the blight has ruined the coffee

culture and discouraged other agricultural ventures. The sugar product

of the islands has constantly increased. In 1860 they exported 1,444,271

pounds of sugar; in 1864, 10,414,441 pounds; in 1868, 18,312,926 pounds;

and in 1871, 21,760,773 pounds of sugar.

What is remarkable is that, with this rapid increase in the production

of sugar, you hear that the business is unprosperous; and if to this you

reply that planters, like farmers, are hard to satisfy, they show you that

the greater number of the plantations have at some time been sold by the

sheriff, some of them more than once, and that, in fact, only six or seven

are to-day in the hands of their founders.

I do not doubt that there has been bad management on many plantations,

and that this accounts in part for these failures, by which many hundred

thousand dollars have been lost. For the advantages of the sugar planter

on these islands are very decided. He has not only, as I showed you above,

a favorable climate and an extraordinarily fertile soil, but he has

a laboring population, perhaps the best, the most easily managed, the

kindliest, and--so far as habits affect the steadiness and usefulness

of the laborer--the least vicious in the world. He does not have to pay

exorbitant wages; he is not embarrassed to feed or house them, for food

is so abundant and cheap that economy in its distribution is of no moment;

and the Hawaiian is very cheaply housed.

But bad management by no means accounts for all the non-success. There are

some natural disadvantages serious enough to be taken into the account.

In the first place, you must understand that the rain-fall varies

extraordinarily. The trade-wind brings rain; the islands are bits of

mountain ranges; the side of the mountain which lies toward the rain-wind

gets rain; the lee side gets scarcely any. At Hilo it rains almost

constantly; at Lahaina they get hardly a shower a year. At Captain

Makee's, one of the most successful plantations on Maui, water is stored

in cisterns; at Mr. Spencer's, not a dozen miles distant, also one of the

successful plantations, which lies on the other side of Mount Haleakala,

they never have to irrigate. Near Hilo the long rains make cultivation

costly and difficult; but the water is so abundant that they run their

fire-wood from the mountains and their cane from the fields into the

sugar-houses in flumes, at a very great saving of labor. Near Lahaina

every acre must be irrigated, and this work proceeds day and night in

order that no water may run to waste.

Then there is the matter of shipping sugar. There are no good ports except

Honolulu. Kaului on Maui, Hanalei and Nawiliwili on Kauai, and one or two

plantations on Oahu, have tolerable landings. But almost everywhere the

sugar is sent over vile roads to a more or less difficult landing, whence

it is taken in launches to the schooners which carry it to Honolulu, where

it is stored, coopered, and finally reshipped to its market. Many landings

are made through the surf, and I remember one which, last spring,

was unapproachable by vessel or boat for nearly four weeks.

Each sugar planter has, therefore, problems of his own to solve. He can

not pattern on his neighbors. He can not base his estimate on theirs. He

can not be certain even, until he has tried, which of the ten or a dozen

varieties of cane will do best on his soil. He must look out for wood,

which is by no means abundant, and is often costly to bring down from the

mountain; he must look out for his landing; must see that taro grows near

at hand; must secure pasture for his draught cattle: in short, he must

consider carefully and independently many different questions before he

can be even reasonably sure of success. And if, with all this uncertainty,

he embarks with insufficient capital, and must pay one per cent. a month

interest, and turn his crop over to an agent in Honolulu, who is his

creditor, and who charges him five per cent. for handling it, it will not

be wonderful to any business man if he fails to grow rich, or if even he

by-and-by becomes bankrupt. Many have failed. Of thirty-four plantations,

the number worked in all the islands at this time, only six or seven are

in the hands of their founders. Some, which cost one hundred thousand

dollars, were sold by the sheriff for fifteen or eighteen thousand; some,

which cost a quarter of a million, were sold for less than a hundred

thousand.

If you speak with the planters, they will tell you that their great

difficulty is to get a favorable market; that the duty on their sugar

imported into San Francisco eats up their profits; and that the only

cure--the cure-all, I should say, for all the ills they suffer--is a

treaty with the United States, which shall admit their product duty free.

Of course any one can see that if the sugar duty were remitted to them,

the planters would make more money, or would lose less. An ingenuous

planter summed up for me one day the whole of that side of the case, by

saying, "If we had plenty of labor and a free market for our sugar, we

should be thoroughly satisfied."

But I am persuaded that, as there are planters now who are prosperous and

contented, and who make handsome returns even with the sugar duty against

them, so, if that were removed, there would be planters who would continue

their regular and slow march toward bankruptcy; and for whom the remitted

duty would be but a temporary respite, while it would deprive them of a

cheap and easy way to account for their failure. Wherever on the islands

I found a planter living on his own plantation, managing it himself, and

_out of debt_, I found him making money, even with low prices for his

sugar, and even if the plantation itself was not favorably placed; not

only this, but I found plantations yielding steady and sufficient profits,

under judicious management, which in previous hands became bankrupt. But

on the other hand, where I found a plantation heavily encumbered with

debt and managed by a superintendent, the owner living elsewhere, I heard

usually, though not always, complaints of hard times. If a sugar planter

has his land and machinery heavily mortgaged at ten or twelve per cent

interest; if he must, moreover, borrow money on his crop in the field to

enable him to turn that into sugar; if then he sends the product to an

agent in Honolulu, who charges him five per cent. for shipping it to San

Francisco; and if in San Francisco another agent charges him five per

cent. more, _on the gross returns including freight and duty_, for selling

it; if besides all this the planter buys his supplies on credit, and is

charged one per cent. a month on these, compounded every three months

until it is paid, and pays almost as much freight on his sugar from the

plantation to Honolulu as from there to its final market--it is highly

probable that he will, in the course of time, fail.

There are not many legitimate enterprises in the world which would bear

such charges and leave a profit to the manager. But it is on this system

that the planting of sugar has been, to a large extent, carried on for

years in the Islands. Under it a good deal of money has been made, but not

by the planters. Nor is this essentially unjust. In the majority of cases,

planters began rashly with small means, and had to borrow largely to

complete their enterprises and get to work. The capitalist of course took

a part of the profits as interest. But the capitalist was in many

cases also the agent and store-keeper in Honolulu; and he shaved off

percentages--all in the way of business--until the planter was really

no more than the foreman of his agent and creditor. When, under such

circumstances, a planter complained that he did not make the fortune he

anticipated, and reasoned that therefore sugar planting in the Islands is

unprofitable, he seemed to me to speak beside the question--for his agent

and creditor, his employer in fact, made no complaint: _he_ always made

money; and as he had invested the money to carry on the enterprise, this

was but the natural result.

The planters make a grave mistake in not acting together and advising

together on their most important interests. There are so few of them that

it should be easy to unite; and yet for lack of concerted action they

suffer important abuses to go on. For instance, it is a serious loss

to the planter that when he ships or engages a hand he must pay a large

"advance," amounting usually to at least half a year's pay. This custom is

hurtful to the laborer, who wastes it, and it inflicts a serious loss

upon the planter. Suppose he employs a hundred men, and pays fifty dollars

advance, he invests at once five thousand dollars for which he gets no

interest, though if, as is probable, he borrowed it, he must pay one

per cent. a month. This abuse could be abolished in a day by the simple

announcement that no planter would hereafter pay more than ten dollars

advance. But it has gone on for years, and the sum paid gets higher every

year merely by the planters outbidding each other.

Again, it is possible to ship sugar from some of the Islands direct to

San Francisco, and for but little more than is now paid for shipping it

to Honolulu. Half a dozen planters on Hawaii or Maui, clubbing together,

could easily get a ship or half a dozen ships to come for their sugar, and

thus save five per cent. on their gross returns, now paid to agents. But

this is not done, partly because so many planters are in need of money,

which they borrow in Honolulu, with the understanding that they will

submit their produce to the management of agents there.

Again, the planters err, I think, in not giving personal study to the

question of a market for their sugar. They leave this to the agents to

manage. No doubt these gentlemen are competent; but it is easy to see that

their interests may be somewhat different from those of the planter. For

instance, some years ago an arrangement was offered by the San Francisco

sugar refineries by which these agreed to take two-thirds of the product

of the plantations in crude sugar, to furnish bags to contain this

product, and to pay cash for it in Honolulu. Under this system the planter

was saved the heavy expense of sugar kegs, and the cost of two agencies

of five per cent. each, besides getting cash in Honolulu, whereas now his

sugar is usually sold at three months in San Francisco, and he probably

loses six months' interest, reckoning from the time his sugar leaves the

plantation. This arrangement, several planters told me, was profitable to

them; but it was discontinued--it was not to the advantage of the agents;

its discontinuance was no doubt a blunder for the planters. Moreover,

the Australian market has been too long neglected; but the advantage of

possessing two markets instead of one is too obvious to require statement.

It is a reasonable conclusion, from all the facts in the case, that

sugar planting can be carried on at a fair and satisfactory profit in the

Hawaiian Islands, wherever skill and careful personal attention are given,

and due economy enforced by a planter who has at the same time sufficient

capital to carry on the business. The example of Captain Makee and Mr.

A.H. Spencer on Maui, of Mr. Isenberg on Kauai and others sufficiently

prove this.

If I seem to have given more space to this sugar question than it appears

to deserve at the hands of a passing traveler, it is because sugar enters

largely into the politics of the Islands. It is the sugar interest which

urges the offer of Pearl River to the United States in exchange for a

treaty of reciprocity; and it is when sugar is low-priced at San Francisco

that the small company of annexationists raises its voice, and sometimes

threatens to raise its flag.

There is room on the different islands for about seventy-five or eighty

more plantations on the scale now common; and there are, I think, still

excellent opportunities for making plantations. The sugar lands unoccupied

are not high-priced; and men skilled in this industry, and with sufficient

capital, can do well there, and live in a delightful climate and among

pleasant society, in a country where, as I have before said, life and

property are more absolutely secure than anywhere else in the world. But

I strongly advise every one to avoid debt. It has been the curse of the

planters, even of those who have kept out of debt, for it has prevented

such unity of action among them as must have before this enabled them to

effect important improvements. For instance, were they out of debt there

is no reason that I can see why they should not succeed in making their

market in Honolulu, and drawing purchasers thither instead of sending

their sugar to far-off markets at their own risk and expense. If ships can

afford to sail in ballast to more distant islands for guano, calling at

Honolulu on the way, it is reasonable to suppose they could afford to come

thither for the more valuable sugar cargoes.

[Illustration: WAILUKU, ISLAND OF MAUI.]

The planters err, I think, in not planting the mountain sides, wherever

these are accessible and have soil, with trees. The forests of the country

are rapidly disappearing, especially from the higher plains and the

grass-bearing slopes. Not only is the wood cut for burning, but the cattle

browse down the young growth; and a pestilent grub has of late attacked

the older trees and destroyed them in great numbers. Already complaints

are heard of the greater dryness and infertility of certain localities,

which I do not doubt comes from suffering the ground to become bare. At

several points I was told that the streams were permanently lower than

in former years--of course because evaporation goes on more rapidly

near their head waters now that the ground is bare. But little care

or forethought is exercised in such matters, however. A few extensive

plantations of trees have been made, notably by Captain Makee on Maui, who

has set out a large number of Australian gum trees. The universal habit

of letting cattle run abroad, and the dearness of lumber for fencing,

discourages tree planting, which yet will be found some day one of the

most profitable investments in the islands, I believe; and I was sorry to

see in many places cocoa-nut groves dying out of old age and neglect, and

no young trees planted to replace them.

It remains to describe to you the "contract labor" system by which the

sugar-plantations are carried on. This has been frequently and, as it

seems to me, unjustly abused as a system of slavery. The laborers hire

themselves out for a stated period, usually, in the case of natives, for

a year, and in the case of Chinese for five years. The contract runs in

English and in Hawaiian or Chinese, and is sufficiently simple. Thus:

"This Agreement, made and entered into this ---- day of ----, A.D.

18--, by and between the owners of the ---- plantation, in the

island of ----, party of the first part, and ---- ----, party of

the second part, witnesseth:

"I. The said party of the second part promises to perform such

labor upon the ---- plantation, in the district of ----, island of

----, as the said party of the first part shall direct, and that

he will faithfully and punctually perform the same as becomes a

good workman, and that he will obey all lawful commands of the

said party of the first part, their agents or overseers, during

the term of ---- months, each month to consist of twenty-six

working days.

"II. The party of the first part will well and truly pay, or cause

to be paid, unto the said party of the second part, at the end

of each month during which this contract shall remain in force,

compensation or wages at the rate of ---- dollars for each month,

if said party of the second part shall well and truly perform his

labor as aforesaid."

The law requires that this contract shall be signed before a notary

public. The wages are usually eight dollars per month and food, or eleven

dollars per month without food; from which you will see that three dollars

per month will buy sufficient poi, beef, and fish to support a native

laborer in these islands. The engagement is entirely voluntary; the men

understand what they contract to do, and in all the plantations where they

are well treated they re-enlist with great regularity. The vicious custom

of "advances" mentioned above has become a part of the system; it arose,

I suppose, from the fact that the natives who shipped as whalemen received

advance pay; and thus the plantation laborers demanded it too. The

laborers are commonly housed in detached cottages, and live with their

families, the women forming an important, irregular laboring force at

seasons when the work is hurried. But they are not "contract" laborers,

but paid by the day. It has been found the best plan on most of the

plantations to feed the people, and food is so cheap that it is supplied

without stint.

This system has been vigorously, but, I believe, wrongly, attacked. The

recent census is an uncommonly barren document; but there is strong reason

to believe that while there is a general decrease in the population, on

the plantations there is but little if any decrease. In fact, the Hawaiian

living in his valley on his kuliana or small holding, leads an extremely

irregular life. He usually sups at midnight, sleeps a good deal during

the day, and has much idle time on his hands. On the plantations he works

regularly and not too hard, eats at stated intervals, and sleeps all

night. This regularity conduces to health. Moreover, he receives prompt

and sufficient medical attendance, he lives a more social and interesting

life, and he is as well fed, and mostly better lodged. There are very few

instances of abuse or cruelty; indeed, a plantation manager said to me,

"If I were to wrong or abuse one of my men, he would persuade a dozen or

twenty others not to re-enlist when their terms are out, and would

fatally embarrass me;" for it is not easy to get laborers.

There is good reason to believe, therefore, that the plantation laborers

are healthier, more prosperous, and just as happy as those who live

independently; and it is a fact that on most of the islands the greater

part of the younger people are found on the plantations. Churches are

established on or very near all the sugar estates, and the children

are rigorously kept at school there as elsewhere. The people take their

newspaper, discuss their affairs, and have usually a leader or two among

the foremen. On one plantation one of the foremen in the field was pointed

out to me: he was a member of the Legislature.

There is a good deal of complaint of a scarcity of labor. If more

plantations were opened it would be necessary to import laborers; but

for the present, it seems to me, the supply is not deficient. Doubtless,

however, many planters would extend their operations if they could get

workmen readily. Chinese have been brought over, though not in great

numbers; and of late the absurd and cruel persecution of these people in

California has driven several hundred to take refuge in the Islands, where

they are kindly treated and can live comfortably.

The machinery used in the sugar-houses is usually of the best; the larger

plantations all use vacuum-pans; and the planters are usually intelligent

gentlemen, familiar with the best methods of producing sugar, and with the

latest improvements. Yet it is a question whether the expensive machinery

is not in the long run a disadvantage, as it disables them from profitably

making those low grades of sugar which can be cheaply turned out with the

help of an "open train," and which appear to have, in these days, the most

ready sale and the best market.

[Illustration: KEAPAWEO MOUNTAIN, KAUAI.]

CHAPTER IV.

KAUAI, WITH A GLANCE AT CATTLE AND SHEEP.

Kauai lies farthest to leeward of the main islands of the Hawaiian group;

the steamer visits it usually but once a month; and the best way to see

it without unnecessary waste of time is to take passage in a schooner, so

timing your visit as to leave you a week or ten days on the island before

the steamer arrives to carry you back.

We took passage on a little sugar schooner, the _Fairy Queen_, of about

seventy-five tons, commanded by a smart native captain, and sailing one

afternoon about two o'clock, and sleeping comfortably on deck wrapped in

rugs, were landed at Waimea the following morning at day-break.

When you travel on one of these little native schooners you must provide

food for yourself, for poi and a little beef or fish make up the sea

ration as well as the land food of the Hawaiian. In all other respects you

may expect to be treated with the most distinguished consideration and

the most ready and thoughtful kindness by captain and crew; and the

picturesque mountain scenery of Oahu, which you have in sight so long as

daylight lasts, and the lovely star-lit night, with its soft gales and

warm air, combine to make the voyage a delightful adventure.

As usual in these Islands, a church was the first and most conspicuous

landmark which greeted our eyes in the morning. Abundant groves of

cocoa-nuts, for which the place is famous, assured us of a refreshing

morning draught. The little vessel was anchored off the shore, and our

party, jumping into a whale-boat, were quickly and skillfully steered

through the slight surf which pours upon the beach. The boat was pulled

upon the black sand; and the lady who was of my party found herself

carried to the land in the stout arms of the captain; while the rest of us

watched our chance, and, as the waves receded, leaped ashore, and managed

to escape with dry feet. The sun had not yet risen; the early morning was

a little overcast. A few natives, living on the beach, gathered around

and watched curiously the landing of our saddles and saddle-bags from the

boat; presently that pushed off, and our little company sat down upon an

old spar, and watched the schooner as she hoisted sails and bore away for

her proper port, while we waited for the appearance of a native person

of some authority to whom a letter had been directed, requesting him to

provide us with horses and a guide to the house of a friend with whom we

intended to breakfast. Presently three or four men came galloping along

the beach, one of whom, a burly Hawaiian, a silver shield on whose jacket

announced him a local officer of police, reported that he was at our

service with as many horses as we needed.

[Illustration: CHAIN OF EXTINCT VOLCANOES NEAR KOLOA, ISLAND OF KAUAI.]

It is one of the embarrassing incidents of travel on these Islands that

there are no hotels or Inns outside of Honolulu and Hilo. Whether he will

or no the traveler must accept the hospitality of the residents, and

this is so general and so boundless that it would impose a burdensome

obligation, were it not offered in such a kindly and graceful way as to

beguile you into the belief that you are conferring as well as receiving

a favor. Nor is the foreigner alone generous; for the native too, if you

come with a letter from his friend at a distance, places himself and all

he has at your service. When we had reached our friend's house, I asked

my conductor, the policeman, what I should pay him for the use of three

horses and his own services. He replied that he was but too happy to have

been of use to me, as I was the friend of his friend. I managed to force

upon him a proper reward for his attention, but I am persuaded that he

would have been content without.

Kauai is probably the oldest of the Hawaiian group; according to the

geologists it was the first thrown up; the bottom of the ocean began to

crack, up there to the north-west, and the rent extended gradually in the

south-easterly direction necessary to produce the other islands. It would

seem that Kauai must be a good deal older than Hawaii; for, whereas the

latter is covered with undecayed lava and has two active volcanoes, the

former has a rich and deep covering of soil, and, except in a few places,

there are no very plain or conspicuous cones or craters. Of course the

whole island bears the clearest traces of its volcanic origin; and near

Koloa there are three small craters in a very good state of preservation.

Having thus more soil than the other islands, Kauai has also more grass;

being older, not only are its valleys somewhat richer, but its mountains

are also more picturesque than those of Maui and Hawaii, as also they are

much lower. The roads are excellent for horsemen, and for the most part

practicable for carriages, of which, however, there are none to be hired.

The best way to see the island is to land, as we did, at Waimea; ride to

a singular spot called the "barking sands"--a huge sand-hill, gliding down

which you hear a dull rumble like distant thunder, probably the result of

electricity. On the way you meet with a mirage, remarkable for this that

it is a constant phenomenon--that is to say, it is to be seen daily at

certain hours, and is the apparition of a great lake, having sometimes

high waves which seem to submerge the cattle which stand about,

apparently, in the water.

From the sands you return to Waimea, and can ride thence next day to Koloa

in the forenoon, and to Na-Wiliwili in the afternoon. The following day's

ride will bring you to Hanalei, a highly picturesque valley which lies on

the rainy side of the island, Waimea being on the dry side. At Hanalei

you should take the steamer and sail in her around the Palis of Kauai, a

stretch of precipitous cliff twenty-five miles long, the whole of which is

inaccessible from the sea, except by the native people in canoes; and

many parts of which are very lovely and grand. Thus voyaging, you will

circumnavigate the island, returning to Na-Wiliwili, and thence in a night

to Honolulu.

It is easy and pleasant to see Kauai, taking a store of provisions with

you and lodging in native houses. But if you have made some acquaintances

in Honolulu you will be provided with letters of introduction to some of

the hospitable foreign families on this island; and thus the pleasure of

your visit will be greatly increased. I do not, I trust, violate the

laws of hospitality if I say something here of one of these families--the

owners of the little island of Niihau, who have also a charming residence

in the mountains of Kauai. They came to Honolulu ten or twelve years

ago from New Zealand in a ship of their own, containing not only their

household goods, but also some valuable sheep. Thus fitted out they were

sailing over the world, looking for such a little empire to own as they

found in Niihau; and here they settled, selling their ship; and here they

remain, prospering, and living a quiet, peaceful, Arcadian life, with

cattle and sheep on many hills, and with a pleasant, hospitable house,

where children and grandchildren are clustered together, and where the

stranger receives the heartiest of welcomes. It was a curious adventure to

undertake, this sailing over the great Pacific to seek out a proper home;

and I did not tire of listening to the account of their voyage and their

settlement in this new and out-of-the-way land, from the cheery and

delightful grandmother of the family, a Scotch lady, full of the sturdy

character of her country people, and altogether one of the pleasantest

acquaintances I made on the Islands.

[Illustration: WAIALUA FALLS, ISLAND OF KAUAI.]

Kauai has many German residents, mostly, like these Scotch people I

have spoken of, persons of education and culture, who have brought their

libraries with them, and on whose tables and shelves you may see the best

of the recent literature, as well as the best of the old. A New Yorker who

imagines, cockney-like, that civilization does not reach beyond the sound

of Trinity chimes is startled out of this foolish fancy when he finds

among the planters and missionaries here, as in other parts of these

Islands, men and women of genuine culture maintaining all the essential

forms as well as the realities of civilization; yet living so free

and untrammeled a life that he who comes from the high-pressure social

atmosphere of New York can not help but envy these happy mortals, who seem

to have the good without the worry of civilization, and who have caught

the secret of how to live simply and yet gently.

Kauai has four or five sugar-plantations, some of which are now

successful, though they were not always so. Success has been attained by

a resolute expenditure of money in irrigation ditches, which have made

the land yield constant and remunerative crops. But I could see here, as

elsewhere, that close and careful management--the eye of the master and

the hand of the master--insured the success.

But a large part of the island is given up to cattle. In the mountains

they have gone wild, and parties are made to hunt and shoot these. But on

the plains, of course, they are owned and herded. The raising of cattle is

an important and considerable business on all the Islands; and at present,

I believe, the cattle owners are making a good deal of money. In 1871,

19,384 hides were exported, as well as 185,240 pounds of tallow, 58,900

goat skins, and 471,706 pounds of wool.

The market for beef is limited, and the stockman boils down his beeves.

In many cases the best machinery is used for this purpose; the boiling is

done in closed vessels, and the business is carried on with precision. It

seemed to me, who remembered the high price of beef in our Eastern States,

like a sad waste to see a hundred head of fat steers driven into a corral,

and one after the other knocked on the head, slaughtered, skinned, cut up,

and put into the boilers to be turned into tallow. But it is the only use

to make of the beasts. The refuse, however, is here always wasted, which

appeared to me unnecessary, for it might well be applied to the enrichment

of the pastures.

On many of the ranches you see open try pots used; it is a more wasteful

process, I imagine, but it is simpler and requires a smaller expenditure

of capital for machinery. The cattle are managed here, as in California,

on horseback and with the help of the lasso; and he who on our Pacific

coast is called a _vaquero_, or cow-herd, is here known as a "Spaniol."

Such a native man is pointed out to you as an excellent Spaniol. This

comes from the fact that in the early days of cattle-raising here the

natives knew nothing of their management, and Spaniards had to be imported

from California to teach them the business. The native people now make

excellent vaqueros; they are daring horsemen, and as they work cheaply

and are easily fed and lodged, the management of cattle costs less here,

I imagine, than even in California. But it is necessary to take care that

the pastures shall not be overstocked; and the vast number of horses kept

by the natives is on all the Islands a serious injury to the pasturage of

both sheep and cattle.

The Hawaiian, who seventy-five years ago did not know that there existed

such a creature as a horse, and even fifty years ago beheld it as a

rarity, now can not live without this beast. There are probably more

horses than people on the Islands; and the native family is poor, indeed,

which has not two or three hardy, rough, grass-fed ponies, easy to ride,

sometimes tricky but more often quite trustworthy, and capable of living

where a European donkey would die in disgust. At a horse auction you see a

singular collection of good and bad horses; and it is one of the jokes of

the Islands to go to a horse auction and buy a horse for a quarter of a

dollar. The Government has vainly tried to put a check to the reckless

increase of horseflesh by laying a tax on these animals, and by impounding

them if the tax is not paid. I was told of a planter who bought on one

occasion fifty horses out of a pound, at twenty-five cents a head, and had

them all shot and put into a manure pile. But if the horse is worth his

tax it is pretty certain to be paid; and it is not easy to keep them off

the pastures.

Cattle ranchos usually extend over from fifteen to thirty thousand acres

of land; though many are smaller, and some, on Hawaii, larger. The grass

is of different varieties, but the most useful, as well as now the most

abundant, is the _manienie_, of which I have before made mention. Horses

and sheep, as well as cattle, become very fond of this grass, and eat it

down very close. The handling of the cattle is intrusted to native people,

who live on the rancho or estate; and the planter or stock farmer has

an advantage, in these Islands, in finding a laboring population living

within the bounds of his own place. The large estates were formerly the

property of the chiefs. They are the old "lands." But when the kuliana law

was made, the common people were allowed to take out for themselves such

small holdings as they held in actual cultivation. These kulianas they

still hold; and thus it often happens that within the bounds of a large

estate fifty or sixty families will live on their little freeholds;

and these form a natural and cheap laboring force for the plantation or

rancho.

On the Island of Niihau, I was told, there are still about three hundred

native people. The sheep are allowed to run at large on the island, there

being no wild animals to disturb them; at lambing and shearing times the

proprietors hire their native tenants to do the necessary work; and these

people at other times fish, raise water-melons and other fruits, and make

mats which are famous for their fine texture and softness, and sell at

handsome prices even in Honolulu.

Where, as is the case almost universally, the relations between the

stockman and the native people are kindly, there is a reciprocity of good

offices, and a ready service from the people, in return for management and

protection by the great proprietor, which is mutually agreeable, and in

which the proprietor stands in some such relation to the people as the

chief in old times, though of course with not a tithe of the power the

ancient rulers had.

At Kauai you will also see rice growing. This is one of the products which

is rapidly increasing in the Islands. Of rice and paddy, or unhulled rice,

the exports were in 1871, 417,011 pounds of the first, and 867,452 of

the last. In 1872 there were exported 455,121 pounds of rice and 894,382

pounds of paddy.

The taro patches make excellent rice fields; and it is an industry in

which the Chinese, who understand it, invest their savings. They employ

native labor; and it is not uncommon to find that a few Chinese have hired

all the taro patches in a valley from their native owners, and then

employ these natives to work for them; an arrangement which is mutually

beneficial, and agreeable besides to the Hawaiian, who has not much of

what we call "enterprise," and does not care to accumulate money. The

windward side of the Islands of Oahu and Kauai produces a great deal of

rice, and this is one of the products which promises to increase largely.

The rice is said to be of excellent quality.

[Illustration: IMPLEMENTS. _a_, Calabash for _poi_.--_b_, Calabash for

fish.--_c_, Water bottle.--_d_, _Poi_ mallets.--_e_, _Poi_ trough.--_f_,

Native bracelet.--_g_, Fiddle.--_h_, Flute.--_i i_, Drums.]

Kauai contained once the most important coffee-plantations; and the large

sugar-plantation of Princeville at Hanalei was originally planted

in coffee. But this tree or shrub is so subject to the attacks of a

leaf-blight that the culture has decreased. Yet coffee grows wild in many

of the valleys and hills, and here and there you find a small plantation

of a few hundred trees which does well. The coffee shrub thrives best in

these Islands among the lava rock, where there seems scarcely any soil;

and it must be sheltered from winds and also from the sun. I have seen

some young plantations placed in the midst of forests where the trees gave

a somewhat dense shade, and these seemed to grow well.

[Illustration: GRASS HOUSE.]

CHAPTER V.

THE HAWAIIAN AT HOME: MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.

As we rode one day near the sea-shore I heard voices among the rocks, and

sending the guide ahead with the horses, I walked over to the shore

with the lady and children who were my companions. There we saw a sight

characteristic of these islands. Three women decently clothed in a garment

which covered them from head to foot, and a man with only a breech-clout

on, were dashing into the surf, picking up sea-moss, and a little univalve

shell, a limpet, which they flung into small baskets which hung from their

shoulders. They were, in fact, getting their suppers, and they were

quite as much surprised at our appearance as we at theirs. They came out

politely, and showed the children what was in their baskets; the man,

understanding that our horses had gone ahead, kindly volunteered to pilot

us over the rocks to a village near by. I do not imagine that he was

embarrassed at his lack of clothing, and after the first shock of surprise

I am quite sure we were more inclined to admire his straight muscular

figure and his shining dark skin than to complain of his nakedness.

Presently, however, he slipped away into the bush, and re-appeared in a

hat, and a shirt which was so short that even my little girl burst into

laughter at this ridiculous and futile effort toward decency; and thus

arrayed, and with the kindly and gracious smile which illuminates a

Hawaiian's face when he puts himself to some trouble on your account, this

funny guide led us to our horses.

In the evening I related this incident to our host, an old resident, and

said, "I suppose this man could read?" "Read!" he replied; "he can read

and write as well as you. I know him very well; he is a prosperous man,

and is to be the next justice of the peace in that district. He doubtless

went home and spent the remainder of the afternoon in reading his

newspaper."

Native life in the Islands is full of such contrasts, and I found, on

examining the labor contracts on several sugar-plantations, that almost

without exception the working people signed their own names.

According to a census taken in December, 1872, the Hawaiian Islands

contained 56,897 souls, of whom 51,531 were natives and half-castes, and

5366 were foreigners. In six years the native population had decreased

7234, and the foreigners had increased 1172. Since 1866, therefore, the

Islands have lost 6062 souls.

Of the foreigners the Chinese are the most numerous, outnumbering all the

other foreign nationalities together except the Americans. Chinese have

been brought over here as coolie laborers on the plantations. They readily

intermarry with the native women, and these unions are usually fruitful

of healthy and bright children. It is said that the Chinese insist upon

taking better care of their children than the native women, uninstructed,

usually give them, and that therefore the Chinese half-caste families

are more thrifty than those of the pure blood Hawaiians. Moreover, the

Chinaman takes care of his wife. He endeavors to form her habits upon the

pattern of his own; and requires of her the performance of fixed duties,

which add to her happiness and health. In fact, the number of half-castes

of all races has increased thirty per cent. in the last six years.

The native population is admirably cared for by the authorities. The

Islands are divided for various governmental purposes into districts;

and in every district where the people are much scattered the government

places a physician--a man of skill and character--to whom it gives a

small salary for attending upon the common people, and he is, I believe,

expected to make a tour of his district at stated intervals. Of course he

is allowed to practice besides for pay. The sugar planters also usually

provide medical attendance for their laborers.

The Government maintains a careful guard over the schools. A compulsory

education law obliges parents, under fixed penalties, to send their

children to school; and besides the common or primary schools, there are a

number of academies, most of which receive some help from the Government,

while all are under Government supervision. The census gives the number of

children between six and fifteen years of age at 6931; and there are 324

teachers, or one teacher for every twenty-seven children in the whole

group. Attendance at school is, I suspect, more general here than in any

other country in the world. The last report of W.P. Kamakau, the President

of the Board of Education, made in March, 1872, returns 8287 children

actually attending upon 245 schools of various grades, 202 being common

schools. Under this system there is scarcely a Hawaiian of proper age who

can not both read and write.

Churches they maintain by voluntary effort, and their contributions are

very liberal. They take a pride in such organizations. Dr. Coan's native

church at Hilo contributes $1200 per year to foreign missions.

There are no beggars, and no public paupers except the insane, who are

cared for in an asylum near Honolulu, and the lepers, who are confined

upon a part of Molokai. The convicts and the boys in the reform school

contribute to their own support by their labor. The Queen's Hospital is

only for curable cases, and the people take care of their own infirm, aged

and otherwise incapable dependents.

It seems to me that very unusual judgment has been shown in the manner

in which benevolent and penal institutions have been created and managed

among these people; for the tendency almost everywhere in countries which

call themselves more highly civilized is to make the poor dependent

upon charity, and thus a fatal blow is struck at their character and

respectability. Here, partly of course because the means of living are

very abundant and easily got, but also, I think, because the government

has been wisely managed, the people have not been taught to look toward

public charity for relief; and though we Americans, who live in a big

country, are apt to think slightingly of what some one called a toy

kingdom, any one who has undertaken to manage or organize even a small

community at home will recognize the fact that it is a task beset by

difficulties.

But in these Islands a state, a society, has been created within a quarter

of a century, and it has been very ably done. I am glad that it has been

done mainly by Americans. Chief-justice Lee, now dead, but whose memory

is deservedly cherished here; Dr. Judd, who died in August, 1873; Mr. C.C.

Harris, lately Minister of Foreign Relations, and for many years occupying

different prominent positions in the Government; Dr. J. Mott Smith, lately

the Minister of Finance; Chief-justice Allen, and Mr. Armstrong, long at

the head of the Educational Department, the father of General Armstrong,

President of the Hampton University in Virginia, deserve, perhaps, the

chief credit for this work. They were the organizers who supplemented the

labors of the missionaries; and, fortunately for the native people, they

were all men of honor, of self-restraint, of goodness of heart, who knew

how to rule wisely and not too much, and who protected the people without

destroying their independence. What they have done would have given them

fame had it not been done two thousand miles from the nearest continent,

and at least five thousand from any place where reputations are made.

Of a total native population of 51,531, 6580 are returned by the census

as freeholders--more than one in every eight. Only 4772 are returned

as plantation laborers, and of these probably a third are Chinese; 2115

returned themselves as mechanics, which is a very large proportion of

the total able-bodied population. I believe that both freeholders and

mechanics find employment on the plantations as occasional laborers.

A people so circumstanced, well taught in schools, freeholders to a large

extent, living in a mild and salubrious climate, and with cheap and proper

food, ought not, one would say, to decrease. There are, of course, several

reasons for their very rapid decrease, and all of them come from contact

with the whites. These brought among them diseases which have corrupted

their blood, and made them infertile and of poor stamina. But to this,

which is the chief cause, must be added, I suspect, another less generally

acknowledged.

The deleterious habit of wearing clothes has, I do not doubt, done much to

kill off the Hawaiian people. If you think for a moment, you will see

that to adopt civilized habits was for them to make a prodigious change in

their ways of life. Formerly the maro and the slight covering of the tapa

alone shielded them from the sun and rain. Their bodies became hardy

by exposure. Their employments--fishing, taro-planting, tapa-making,

bird-catching, canoe-making--were all laborious, and pursued out-of-doors.

Their grass houses, with openings for doors and windows, were, at any

rate, tolerably well ventilated. Take the man accustomed thus to live,

and put shoes on his feet, a hat on his head, a shirt on his back, and

trowsers about his legs, and lodge him in a house with close-shutting

doors and windows, and you expose his constitution to a very serious

strain, especially in a country where there is a good deal of rain. Being,

after all, but half civilized, he will probably sleep in a wet shirt, or

cumber his feet with wet shoes; he will most likely neglect to open his

windows at night, and poison himself and his family with bad air, to the

influence of which, besides, his unaccustomed lungs will be peculiarly

liable; he will live a less active life under his changed conditions; and

altogether the poor fellow must have an uncommonly fine constitution to

resist it all and escape with his life. At the best, his system will be

relaxed, his power of resistance will be lessened, his chances of recovery

will be diminished in the same degree as his chances of falling ill are

increased. If now you throw in some special disease, corrupting the blood,

and transmitted with fatal certainty to the progeny, the wonder is that a

people so situated have not died out in a single generation.

In fact they have died out pretty fast, though there is reason to believe

that the mortality rate has largely decreased in the last three years;

and careful observers believe even that in the last year there has been

an actual increase, rather than a decrease in the native and half caste

population. In 1832 the Islands had a population of 130,315 souls; in

1836 there were but 108,579; in 1840, only 84,165, of whom 1962 were

foreigners; in 1850, 69,800, of whom 3216 were foreigners; and in 1860,

62,959, of whom 4194 were foreigners. The native population has decreased

over sixty per cent. in forty years.

In the same period the foreigners have increased very slowly, until there

are now in all 5366 foreigners and persons born here, but of foreign

parentage, on the Islands. You will see that while the Hawaiians have so

rapidly decreased that all over the Islands you notice, in waste fields

and desolate house places, the marks of this loss, foreigners have not

been attracted to fill up their places. And this in spite of the facts

that the climate is mild and healthful, the price of living cheap, the

Government liberal, the taxes low, and life and property as secure as in

any part of the world. One would think that a country which offers all

these advantages must be a paradise for poor men; and I do not wonder that

in the United States there is frequent talk of "annexing the Islands."

But, in fact, they offer no advantages, aside from those I have named, to

white settlers, and they have such serious natural disabilities as will

always--or, at least, for the next two or three millions of years--repel

our American people, and all other white settlers.

In the first place, there is very little of what we call agricultural

land on the Islands. They are only mountains rising from the sea, with

extremely little alluvial bottom, and that usually cut up by torrents, and

water-washed into gulches, until it is difficult in many parts to find

a fair field of even fifty acres. From these narrow bottoms, where they

exist, you look into deep gorges or valleys, out of which issue the

streams which force their way through the lower fields into the sea.

These valleys are never extensive, and are always very much broken and

contracted. They are useless for common agricultural purposes. In several

the culture of coffee has been begun; but they are so inaccessible, the

roads into them are so difficult, and the area of arable soil they contain

is, after all, so insignificant, that, even for so valuable a product as

coffee, transportation is found to be costly.

But it is along and in the streams which rush through the bottoms of these

narrow gorges that the Hawaiian is most at home. Go into any of these

valleys, and you will see a surprising sight: along the whole narrow

bottom, and climbing often in terraces the steep hill-sides, you will see

the little taro patches, skillfully laid so as to catch the water, either

directly from the main stream, or from canals taking water out above.

Such a taro patch oftenest contains a sixteenth, less frequently an eighth

of an acre. It consists of soil painfully brought down from above, and

secured by means of substantial stone walls, plastered with mud and

covered with grass, strong enough to resist the force of the torrent. Each

little patch or flat is so laid that a part of the stream shall flow over

it without carrying away the soil; indeed, it is expected to leave some

sediment. And as you look up such a valley you see terrace after terrace

of taro rising before you, the patches often fifty or sixty feet above the

brawling stream, but each receiving its proper proportion of water.

Near by or among these small holdings stand the grass houses of the

proprietors, and you may see them and their wives, their clothing tucked

up, standing over their knees in water, planting or cultivating the crop.

Here the Hawaiian is at home. His horse finds its scanty living on the

grass which fringes the taro patches; indeed, you may see horses here

standing belly deep in fresh water, and feeding on the grasses which grow

on the bottom; and again you find horses raised in the drier parts of

the islands that do not know what water is, never having drunk any thing

wetter than the dew on the grass. Among the taro patches the house place

is as narrow as a fishing schooner's deck--"two steps and overboard." If

you want to walk, it must be on the dikes within which the taro land is

confined; and if you ride, it must be in the middle of the rapid mountain

torrent, or along a narrow bridle-path high up on the precipitous side of

the mountain.

Down near the shore are fish ponds, with wicker gates which admit the

small fry from the sea, but keep in the large fish. Many of these ponds

are hundreds of acres in area, and from them the Hawaiian draws one of

his favorite dishes. Then there may be cocoa-nuts; there are sure to be

bananas and guavas. Beef costs but a trifle, and hogs fatten on taro. The

pandanus furnishes him material for his mats, and of mats he makes his

bed, as well as the floor of his house.

In short, such a gorge or valley as I have tried to describe to you

furnishes in its various parts, including the sea-shore, all that is

needed to make the Hawaiian prosperous; and I have not seen one which

had not its neatly kept school-house and church, and half a dozen framed

houses scattered among the humbler grass huts, to mark the greater wealth

of some--for the Hawaiian holds that the wooden house is a mark of thrift

and respectability.

But the same valley which now supports twenty or thirty native families in

comfort and happiness, and which, no doubt, once yielded food and all the

appliances of life in abundance to one or two hundred, would not tempt any

white man of any nation in the world to live in it, and a thousand such

gorges would not add materially to the prosperity of any white nation.

That is to say, the country is admirably adapted to its native people.

It favors, as it doubtless compelled and formed, all their habits and

customs. But it would repel any one else, and an American farmer would not

give a hundred dollars for the whole Wailuku Valley--if he had to live in

it and work it--though it would be worth many thousands to the natives if

it were once more populous as of old.

As you examine the works of the old Hawaiians, their fish ponds, their

irrigation canals, their long miles of walls inclosing ponds and taro

fields, you will not only see the proofs that the Islands were formerly

far more populous than now, but you will get a respect for the feudal

system of which these works are the remains.

The Hawaiian people, when they first became known to the world, were

several stages removed from mere savagery. They had elaborated a tolerably

perfect system of government and of land tenure, which has since been

swept away, as was inevitable, but which served its day very well indeed.

Under this system the chiefs owned every thing. The common people were

their retainers--followers in war and servants in peace. The chief,

according to an old Hawaiian proverb, owned "all the land, all the sea,

and all the iron cast up by the sea."

[Illustration: HAWAIIAN WARRIORS.]

The land was carefully parceled out among the chiefs, upon the plan of

securing to each one from his own land all that he and his retainers

needed for their lives. What they chiefly required was taro ground, the

sea for fish, the mulberry for tapa, and timber land for canoes; but they

required also _ti_ leaves in which to wrap their parcels, and flowers of

which to make their _les_, or flower necklaces. And I have seen modern

surveys of old "lands" in which the lines were run very irregularly, and

in some cases oven outlying patches were added, because a straight line

from mountain to sea was found to exclude some one product, even so

trifling as the yellow flowers of which _les_ are often made.

On such a "land," and from it, the chief and his people lived. He appears

to have been the brains and they the hands to work it. They owed him two

days' labor in every seven, in which they cultivated his taro, cleaned his

fish pond, caught fish for him, opened paths, made or transported canoes,

and did generally what he required. The remainder of the time was their

own, to cultivate such patches of taro as he allowed them to occupy, or to

do what they pleased. For any important public work he could call out all

his people, and oblige them to labor as long as he chose, and thus were

built the surprisingly solid and extensive walls which inclose the old

fish ponds, and many irrigating canals which show not only long continued

industry, but quite astonishing skill for so rude a people.

The chief was supreme ruler over his people; they lived by his tolerance,

for they owned absolutely nothing, neither land, nor house, nor food, nor

wife, nor child. A high chief was approached only with abject gestures,

and no one dared resist his acts or dispute his will. The sense of

obedience must have been very strong, for it has survived every change;

and only the other day a friend of mine saw a Hawaiian lady, a chiefess,

but the wife of an American, and herself tenderly nurtured and a woman of

education and refinement, boxing the ears of a tall native, whom she had

caught furiously abusing his wife, and the man bore his punishment as

meekly as a child. "Why?" "He knows I am his chief, and he would not dare

raise even an angry look toward me; he would not think of it, even," was

her reply, when she was asked how she had courage to interfere in what was

a very violent quarrel. Yet the present law recognizes no allegiance due

to a chief.

When the young king Lunalilo returned to the palace after the coronation,

the pipe-bearer, an old native retainer, approached him on his knees,

and was shocked at being ordered to get up and act like a man. The older

natives to this day approach a chief or chiefess only with humble and

deprecatory bows; and wherever a chief or chiefess travels, the native

people along the road make offerings of the fruits of the ground, and

even of articles of clothing and adornment. One of the curious sights

of Honolulu to us travelers, last spring, was to see long processions of

native people, men, women, and children, marching to the palace to

lay their offerings before the king, who is a high chief. Each brought

something--a man would walk gravely along with a pig under his arm; after

him followed perhaps a little child with half a dozen bananas, a woman

with a chicken tied by a string, a girl with a handkerchief full of eggs,

a boy with a cocoa-nut, an old woman with a calabash of poi, and so on.

In the palace yard all this was laid in a heap before the young king, who

thereupon said thank you, and, with a few kind words, dismissed the people

to their homes.

As an illustration of the power of the old chiefs, as well as of the

density of the population in former times, it is related that when the

wall inclosing a certain fish pond on the windward side of Oahu was to be

built, the chief then ruling over that land gave notice that on a certain

day every man, woman, and child within his domain must appear at a

designated point, bearing a stone. The wall, which stands yet, is half a

mile long, well built, and probably six feet high; and it was begun and

completed in that one day.

[Illustration: LUNALILO.]

I was shown, on Kauai, a young man of insignificant appearance, and of no

particular merit or force of character. To him an old woman recently dying

had by a will, written out for her by a friend of my own, left all her

property--a taro patch, a house, and some other land. My friend asked

why. He is my chief, was the reply; and sure enough, on inquiry my friend

discovered, what he had not before known, that the man was a descendant

of one of the chief families, of whom this old woman had in her early days

been a subject.

As the chief was the ruler, the people looked to him for food in a time of

scarcity. He directed their labors; he protected them against wrong from

others; and as it was his pride that his retainers should be more numerous

and more prosperous than those of the neighboring chief, if the head

possessed brains, no doubt the people were made content. Food was

abundant; commerce was unknown; the chief could not eat or waste more than

his people could easily produce for him; and until disturbing causes came

in with Captain Cook, no doubt feudalism wrought satisfactory results

here. One wonders how it was invented among such a people, or who it was

that first had genius enough to insist on obedience, to make rules, to

prescribe the tabu, and, in short, to evolve order out of chaos.

The tabu was a most ingenious and useful device; and when you hear of the

uses to which it was put, and of its effectiveness, you feel surprised

that it was not found elsewhere as an appurtenance of the feudal

machinery. Thus the chief allowed his people to fish in the part of the

ocean which he owned--which fronted his "land," that is to say. He tabued

one or two kinds of fish, however; these they were forbidden to catch; but

as a fisherman can not, even in these islands, exercise a choice as to the

fish which shall enter his net or bite at his hook, it followed that the

tabued fish were caught--but then they were at once rendered up to the

chief. One variety of taro, which makes poi of a pink color, was tabued

and reserved for the chiefs. Some birds were tabued on account of their

feathers; one especially, a black bird which has a small yellow feather

under each wing. The great feather cloak of Kamehameha I., which is

still kept as a sign of royalty, is made of these feathers, and contains

probably several thousand of them, thus gathered, two from each bird.

Further, a tabu prohibited women from eating with men, even with their

husbands; and when, on the death of the first Kamehameha, his Queen

Kahumanu, an energetic and fearless virago, dared for the first time to

eat with her son, a cry of horror went up as though "great Pan was dead;"

and this bold act really broke the power of the heathen priests.

A tabu forbade women to eat cocoa nuts and some other articles of food;

and the prohibition appears to have been used also to compel sanitary and

other useful restraints, for I have been told that a tabu preserved girls

from marriage until they had attained a certain age, eighteen, I believe;

and to this and some other similar regulations, rigorously enforced in the

old times, I have heard old residents attribute the fertility of the race

before foreigners came in.

[Illustration: KAMEHAMEHA I.]

He who violated a tabu was at once killed. Capital punishment seems to

have been an effective restraint upon crime among these savages, contrary

to the theories of some modern philosophers; probably it was effective for

two reasons, because it was prompt and because it was certain. One wonders

how long the tabu would have been respected, had a violator of it been

lodged in jail for eighteen months, allowed to appeal his case through

three courts, and at last been brained amidst the appeals for mercy of

the most respectable people of his tribe, and had his funeral ceremonies

performed by the high-priest, and closed with a eulogy upon his character,

and insinuations against the sound judgment and uprightness of the chief

who ordered the execution.

The first Kamehameha, who seems to have been a savage of considerable

merit, and a firm believer in capital punishment, subdued the Islands to

his own rule, but he did not aim to break the power of the chiefs over

their people. He established a few general laws, and insisted on peace,

order, and obedience to himself. By right of his conquest all lands were

supposed to be owned by him; he gave to one chief and took away from

another; he rewarded his favorites, but he did not alter the condition of

the people.

[Illustration: QUEEN OF KAMEHAMEHA I.]

But as traders came in, as commerce began, as money came into use, the

feudal system began to be oppressive. Sandal-wood was long one of the

most precious products of these islands--their Chinese name, indeed, is

"Sandal-wood Islands." The chiefs, greedy for money, or for what the ships

brought, forced their unhappy retainers into the mountains to gather this

wood. Exposed to cold, badly fed, and obliged to bear painful burdens,

they died in great numbers, so that it was a blessing to the Islanders

when the wood became scarce. Again, supplies of food were sold by the

chiefs to the ships, and this necessitated unusual labor from the people.

One famous chief for years used his retainers to tow ships into the narrow

harbor of Honolulu, sending them out on the reef, where, up to their

middle in water, they shouldered the tow-line.

Thus when, in 1848; the king, at the instance of that excellent man and

upright judge, Chief-justice Lee, gave the kuliana rights, he relieved the

people of a sore oppression, and at a single blow destroyed feudalism.

The kuliana is the individual holding. Under the kuliana law each native

householder became entitled to the possession in fee of such land as

he had occupied, or chose to occupy and cultivate. He had only to make

application to a government officer, have the tract surveyed, and pay a

small sum to get the title. It is creditable to the chiefs that, under the

influence of the missionaries, they consented to this important change,

fully knowing that it meant independence to the common people and an end

of all feudal rights; but it must be added that a large part of their

lands remained in their hands, making them, of course, still wealthy

proprietors.

Thus the present system of land tenure on the Islands is much the same as

our own; but the holdings of the common people are generally small, and

the chiefs, or their successors in many cases foreigners, still maintain

their right to the sea fisheries as against all who live outside the old

boundaries of their own "lands."

The families of most of the great chiefs have become extinct. Their wealth

became a curse to them when foreigners came in with foreign vices and

foreign luxuries. They are said to have been remarkable as men and women

of extraordinary stature and of uncommon perfection of form. I have been

told of many chiefesses nearly or quite six feet in height, and many

chiefs from six feet two inches to six feet six, and in one case six feet

seven inches high. There is no reason to doubt the universal testimony

that they were, as a class, taller and finer-looking than the common

people; but the older missionaries and residents believe that this arose

not from their being of a different race, but because they were absolutely

relieved from hard work, were more abundantly and carefully fed, and used

the lomi-lomi constantly. It is supposable, too, that in the wars which

prevailed among the tribes the weaklings, if any such were among the

chiefs, were pretty sure to be killed off; and thus a natural selection

went on which weeded out the small and inefficient chiefs.

Their government appears to have been a "despotism tempered by

assassination," for great as was the respect exacted by a chief, and

implicit as was the obedience he commanded, if he pushed his tyranny too

far, his people rose and slew him. Thus on Kauai, in the lower part of

the Hanapepe Valley, a huge cliff is shown, concerning which the tradition

runs that it was once the residence of the chief who ruled this valley.

This person, with a Titanic and Rabelaisian humor, was accustomed to

descend into the valley in the evening, seize a baby and carry it to his

stronghold to serve him as a pillow. Having slept upon it he slew it next

morning; and thus with a refinement of luxury he required a fresh baby

every evening. When patience had ceased to be a virtue, according to our

more modern formula, the people went up one night and knocked his brains

out; and there was a change of dynasties.

[Illustration: ANCIENT GODS OF HAWAII.]

The Hawaiian of the present day reads his Bible and newspaper, writes

letters, wears clothes, owns property, serves in the Legislature or

Parliament, votes, teaches school, acts as justice of the peace and even

as judge, is tax collector and assessor, constable and preacher. In spite

of all this, or rather with it, he retains the oddest traces of the habits

and customs of another age. For instance, he will labor for wages; but

he will persistently and for years give away to his relations all his pay

except what he needs for his actual subsistence, and if he is prosperous

he is pretty sure to have quite a swarm of people to support. A lady told

me that having repeatedly clothed her nurse in good apparel, and finding

this liberal soul, every time, in a day or two reduced to her original

somewhat shabby clothing, she at last reproached her for her folly. "What

can I do?" the woman replied; "they come and ask me for the holaku, or the

handkerchief, or whatever I have. Suppose you say they are yours--then

I will not give them away." Accordingly, the next new suit was formally

declared to belong to the mistress: it was not given away. An old woman,

kept chiefly for her skill in lomi-lomi by an American family, asked her

master one day for ten dollars. He gave her two five-dollar gold pieces,

and, to his amazement, saw her hand them over immediately, one to a little

girl and one to a boy, who had evidently come to get the money--not for

her use at all. A cook in my own family asked for the wages due him, which

he had been saving for some time; he received forty-four dollars, and gave

the whole amount at once to his father-in-law, who had come from another

island on purpose to get this money. Nor was it grudged to him, so far as

any of us could see. "By-and-by, if we are poor and in need, they will do

as much for us," is the excuse.

As you ride along in the country, you will see your guide slyly putting a

stone or a bunch of grass on a ledge near some precipice. If you look, you

will see other objects of the same kind lying there. Ask him about it and

he will tell you, with a laugh, that his forefathers in other times did

so, and he does the same. It is, in fact, a peace offering to the

local divinity of the place. Is he, then, an idolater? Not at all; not

necessarily, at least. He is under the compulsion of an old custom; and

he will even tell you that it is all nonsense. The same force leads him

to treat with respect and veneration a chief or chiefess even if abjectly

poor, though before the law the highest chief is no better than the common

people.

They are hearty and even gross feeders; and probably the only

christianized people who live almost entirely on cold victuals. A Hawaiian

does not need a fire to prepare a meal; and at a _luau_, or feast, all the

food is served cold, except the pig, which ought to be hot.

Hospitable and liberal as he is in his daily life, when the Hawaiian

invites his friends to a _luau_ he expects them to pay. He provides for

them roast pig, poi, baked ti-root, which bears a startling resemblance in

looks and taste to New England molasses-cake; raw fish and shrimps, limu,

which is a sea-moss of villainous odor; kuulaau, a mixture of taro and

cocoa-nut, very nice; paalolo, a mixture of sweet-potato and cocoa-nut;

raw and cooked cuttle-fish, roast dog, sea-eggs, if they can be got; and,

if the feast is something above the ordinary, raw pickled salmon with

tomatoes and red-pepper.

The object of such a luau is usually to enable the giver to pay for his

new house, or to raise money for some private object of his own. Notice

of the coming feast is given months beforehand, as also of the amount each

visitor is expected to give. It will be a twenty-five cent, or a fifty

cent, or a dollar luau. The pigs--the centre-piece of the feast--have

been fattening for a year before. The affair is much discussed. It is

indispensable that all who attend shall come in brand-new clothing, and a

native person will rather deny himself the feast than appear in garments

which have been worn before. A few of the relatives of the feast-giver act

as stewards, and they must be dressed strictly alike. At one luau which I

had the happiness to attend the six men who acted as stewards were arrayed

in green cotton shirts and crimson cotton trowsers, and had green wreaths

on their heads. I need not say that they presented a truly magnificent

appearance.

To such a luau people ride thirty or forty miles; arriving often the

evening beforehand, in order to be early at the feast next day. When they

sit down each person receives his abundant share of pig, neatly wrapped in

ti-leaves; to the remainder of the food he helps himself as he likes. They

eat, and eat, and eat; they beat their stomachs with satisfaction; they

talk and eat; they ride about awhile, and eat again; they laugh, sing,

and eat. At last a man finds he can hold no more. He is "pau"--done. He

declares himself "mauna"--a mountain; and points to his abdomen in proof

of his statement. Then, unless he expects a recurrence of hunger, he

carefully wraps up the fragments and bones which remain of his portion

of pig, and these he must take with him. It would be the height of

impoliteness to leave them; and each visitor scrupulously takes away

every remaining bit of his share. If now you look you will see a calabash

somewhere in the middle of the floor, into which each, as he completes his

meal, put his quarter or half dollar.

In the evening there are dancing and singing, and then you may hear and

see the extremely dramatic meles of the Hawaiians--a kind of rapid chant,

the tones of which have a singular fascination for my ears. A man and

woman, usually elderly or middle-aged people, sit down opposite each

other, or side by side facing the company. One begins and the other

joins in; the sound is as of a shrill kind of drone; it is accompanied by

gesticulations; and each chant lasts about two or three minutes, and ends

in a jerk. The swaying of the lithe figures, the vehement and passionate

movements of the arms and head, the tragic intensity of the looks, and the

very peculiar music, all unite to fasten one's attention, and to make this

spectacle of mele singing, as I have said, singularly fascinating.

The language of the meles is a dialect now unused, and unintelligible even

to most of the people. The whole chant concerns itself, however, with a

detailed description of the person of the man or woman or child to which

or in whose honor it is sung. Thus a mele will begin with the hair, which

may be likened in beauty to the sea-moss found on a certain part of Kauai;

or the teeth, which "resemble the beautiful white pebbles which men pick

up on the beach of Kaalui Bay on Maui;" and so on. Indeed an ancient

Hawaiian mele is probably, in its construction, much like the Song of

Solomon; though I am told that the old meles concerned themselves with

personal details by no means suitable for modern ears. A mele is always

sung for or about some particular person. Thus I have heard meles for the

present king; meles for a man or woman present; meles for a chief; and on

one occasion I was told they sang a mele for me; and I judged, from the

laughter some parts of it excited, that my feelings were saved by my

ignorance of the language.

On all festive occasions, and on many others, the Hawaiian loves to dress

his head with flowers and green wreaths. Les or garlands are made of

several substances besides flowers; though the most favorite are composed

of jasmine flowers, or the brilliant yellow flowers of one kind of ginger,

which give out a somewhat overpowering odor. These are hung around the

neck. For the head they like to use wreaths of the maile shrub, which has

an agreeable odor, something like that of the cherry sticks which smokers

like for pipe stems. This ornamentation does not look amiss on the young,

for to youth much is forgiven; but it is a little startling, at a luau,

to see old crones and grave grandfathers arrayed with equal gayety; and I

confess that though while the flowers and leaves are fresh the decorated

assembly is picturesque, especially as the women wear their hair flowing,

and many have beautiful wavy tresses, yet toward evening, when the

maile has wilted and the garlands are rumpled and decaying, this kind of

ornamentation gives an air of dissipation to the company which it by no

means deserves.

Finally, the daily life of the Hawaiian, if he lives near the sea-coast

and is master of his own life, is divided between fishing, taro planting,

poi making, and mat weaving. All these but the last are laborious

occupations; but they do not make hard work of them. Two days' labor every

week will provide abundant food for a man and his family. He has from five

to ten dollars a year of taxes to pay, and this money he can easily earn.

The sea always supplies him with fish, sea-moss, and other food. He is

fond of fussing at different things; but he also lies down on the grass

a good deal--why shouldn't he?--he reads his paper, he plays at cards,

he rides about a good deal, he sleeps more or less, and about midnight he

gets up and eats a hearty supper. Altogether he is a very happy creature,

and by no means a bad one. You need not lock your door against him; and an

election and a luau occasionally, give him all the excitement he craves,

and that not of an unwholesome kind.

What there is happy about his life he owes to the fine climate and the

missionaries. The latter have given him education enough to read his Bible

and newspaper, and thus to take some interest in and have some knowledge

of affairs in the world at large. They and their successors, the political

rulers, have made life and property secure, and caused roads and bridges

to be built and maintained; and the Hawaiian is fond of moving about. The

little inter-island steamer and the schooners are always full of people

on their travels; and as they do not have hotel bills to pay, but live on

their friends on these visits, there is a great deal of such movement.

It would hardly do to compare the Hawaiian people with those of New

England; but they will compare favorably in comfort, in intelligence,

in wealth, in morals, and in happiness with the common people of most

European nations; and when one sees here how happily people can live in a

small way, and without ambitious striving for wealth or a career, he

can not but wonder if, after all, in the year 2873, our pushing and

hard-pushed civilization of the nineteenth century will get as great

praise as it gets from ourselves, its victims.

[Illustration: HAWAIIANS EATING POI.]

CHAPTER VI.

COMMERCIAL AND POLITICAL.

Commercial relations form and foster political alliances, especially

between a weak state and a strong one. The annual report for 1872 of

imports and exports, made up by the Collector-general of the Hawaiian

Kingdom, shows how completely the Islands depend upon the United States.

Of 146 merchant vessels and steamers entered at Hawaiian ports during

1872, 90 were American, only 15 were English; 6 were German, 9 belonged

to other nations, and 26 were Hawaiian. Of a total of 98,647 tons of

shipping, 73,975 were American, 6714 Hawaiian, and but 7741 British. Of 47

whaling vessels calling at Island ports during the year, 42 were American,

2 Hawaiian, and 3 British.

Of a little less than 16,000,000 pounds of sugar exported during the

same year, 14,500,000 were sent to the United States; of 39,000 pounds

of coffee 34,000 were sent to us; of 1,349,503 pounds of rice and paddy

exported, 1,317,203 pounds came to the United States. All the cotton, all

the goat-skins, nearly all the hides, all the wool, the greater part

of the peanuts and the pulu, in short, almost the whole exports of the

Islands, are sent to the United States.

On the other hand, of $1,234,147, the value of duty-paying merchandise

imported during 1872 into the Islands, $806,111 worth came from the United

States, $155,939 from Great Britain, and $205,396 from Germany. Besides

this, of the total value of bonded goods, $349,435, the large amount

of $135,487 was brought from sea by whalemen, almost all of whom were

Americans; and $99,567 worth was goods from the United States; or $235,000

of American products against $21,801 of British, and $23,904 of German

importation, in bond.

It is plain that the Island trade is so largely in our hands that no other

nation can be said to dispute it with us. If our flag flew over Honolulu

we could hardly expect to have a more complete monopoly of

Hawaiian commerce than we already enjoy. Moreover, almost all the

sugar-plantations--the most productive and valuable property on the

Islands--are owned by Americans; and the same is true of the greater

number of stock farms.

Our political predominance on the Islands is as complete as the

commercial. In the present cabinet all the ministers except one are

Americans. This was true also of the cabinet of the late king. Of the

Supreme Court, two of the judges are Americans, and one is German. Almost

all the executive and administrative offices are in the hands of Americans

or Hawaiians.

Nor can any foreign power rightly find fault with this state of things.

What the Islands are they are because of American effort, American

enterprise, American capital. American missionaries civilized them;

Americans gave them laws wisely adapted to the customs and habits of

their people; American enterprise and Boston capital established the sugar

culture and other of the important industries; perhaps I ought to add that

American sailors spread among the Islands the vices and diseases which,

more than all else, have caused the rapid decrease of the population,

and to combat and check which added toil and trouble to the labors of the

American missionaries.

The government of the Hawaiian Islands consists of a king and a

Parliament. The Parliament meets once in two years; and under the late

king consisted of but a single House. The present king has promised to

call together two Houses, of which but one will be elected. The other

consists of "Nobles," who are nominated or created by the king for life,

but have no title nor salary unless they are called to office. By the

Constitution the reigning king appoints his successor, but his nomination

must be confirmed by the Nobles. As, however, he may at pleasure increase

the number of Nobles, the appointment virtually rests with him. If he dies

without naming a successor, the Parliament has the right and duty to elect

a new sovereign.

There is a slight property qualification for voters, and a heavier one for

members of Parliament.

The revenue of the Government, which amounts to about half a million

per annum, is derived from the various sources specified in the official

returns of the Minister of Finance, which I copy below. It must be

understood that this report covers two years:

The balance in the Treasury at the close of the last

fiscal period (March 31, 1870) was . . . . . . . . $61,580.20

And there has been received from Foreign Imports 396,418.15

" " " Fines, Penalties, and Costs 47,289.13

" " " Internal Commerce 98,982.51

" " " Taxes 215,962.51

" " " Fees and Perquisites 22,194.45

" " " Government Realizations 124,071.37

" " " Miscellaneous Sources 60,038.23

----------- $964,956.35

-----------

$1,026,536.55

The expenditures during two years are detailed thus in the same report:

For Civil List . . . . . . . . $50,000.00

" Permanent Settlements . . . . 18,000.00

" Legislature and Privy Council . . 15,281.63

" Department of Judiciary . . . . 73,562.61

" " Foreign Affairs and War 98,028.24

" " Interior . . . . 396,806.41

" " Finance . . . . 141,345.29

" " Attorney-general . 88,412.17

" Bureau of Public Instruction . . 88,347.79

----------- $969,784.14

Balance on hand March 31, 1872 . . . . . . . $56,752.41

------------

$1,026,536.55

The internal taxes include the property tax, which is quite low, one and

a half per cent. Every male adult pays a poll tax of one dollar, a school

tax of two dollars, and a road tax of two dollars. The following is the

detail of the internal taxes for the two years 1870-72:

Real Estate and Personal Property $97,685.11

Horses . . . . . . . . . 53,006.00

Dogs . . . . . . . . . . 22,271.40

Mules . . . . . . . . . . 6,140.00

Carriages . . . . . . . . 3,125.00

Poll . . . . . . . . . . 27,841.00

Native Seamen . . . . . . . 5,894.00

-----------

$215,962.51

Among the licenses the monopoly of opium selling brings the Government

$22,248, a prodigious sum when it is considered that there are but

2500 Chinese in the Islands; these being the chief, though not the only

consumers. There is, besides, a duty of ten per cent. on the opium when

imported, and the merchant must make his profit. I had the curiosity

to look a little into the opium consumption. It is said that its use is

slowly spreading among the natives, particularly where these are employed

with Chinese on the plantations. But the quantity used by the Chinese

themselves is prodigious. I was shown one man, a cook, whose wages,

fourteen dollars per month, were entirely spent on opium; and whose master

supplied the poor creature with clothes, because he had nothing left out

of his pay. In other cases the amount spent was nearly as great.

Eight thousand two hundred and sixty-five dollars were also realized for

awa licenses. Awa is a root the use of which produces a frightful kind

of intoxication, in which the victim falls into stupor, his features

are contorted, and he has seizures resembling epilepsy. The body of the

habitual awa drinker becomes covered with white scales; and it is said

that awa drinking predisposes to leprosy. The manner of preparing awa

is peculiarly disgusting. The root is chewed by women, and they spit out

well-chewed mouthfuls into a calabash. Here it settles, and the liquor is

then drunk. It is said that in old times the chiefs used to get together

the prettiest young girls to chew awa for them.

The king receives a salary of $22,500 per annum; the cabinet ministers and

the chief-justice receive $5000, and the two associate justices $4000

per annum. These are the largest salaries paid; and in general the public

service of the Islands is very cheaply as well as ably and conscientiously

conducted. There is an opportunity for retrenchment in abolishing some of

the offices; but the saving which could thus be effected would after all

not be great. The present Government means, I have been told, to undertake

some reforms; these will probably consist in getting the king to turn the

crown lands into public lands, to be sold or leased for the benefit of the

treasury. They are now leased, and the income is a perquisite of the king,

a poor piece of policy, for the chiefs from among whom a sovereign is

selected are all wealthy; the present king, for instance, has an income

of probably $25,000 per annum from private property of his own. It is also

proposed to lessen the number of cabinet ministers; but this will scarcely

be done. They are but four in number now, having charge of Foreign

Affairs, Finance, and the Interior and Law Departments.

There is a debt of about $300,000 which is entirely held within the

kingdom; and the public property is of value sufficient to pay three times

this sum. It is probable, however, that, like many other governments,

the Hawaiian ministry will have to deal with a deficit when the next

Legislature meets; and this will probably bring reform and retrenchment

before them. There is not much hope of increasing the revenue from new and

still untouched sources, for there are but few such.

The taxable industries and wealth of the Islands can not be very greatly

increased. Finding yourself in a tropical country, with a charming and

equable climate, and with abundant rains, you are apt to think that, given

only a little soil, many things would grow and could be profitably raised.

It is one of the surprises of a visitor to the Hawaiian group to discover

that in reality very few products succeed here.

Coffee was largely planted, and promised to become a staple of the

Islands; but a blight attacked the trees and proved so incurable that

the best plantations were dug up and turned into sugar; and the export of

coffee, which has been very variable, but which rose to 415,000 pounds

in 1870, fell to 47,000 pounds in the next year, and to 39,276 pounds in

1872.

Sea-island cotton would yield excellent crops if it were not that a

caterpillar devours the young plants, so that its culture has almost

ceased. Only 10,000 pounds were exported in 1872. The orange thrives in so

few localities on the Islands that it is not an article of commerce: only

two boxes were exported last year, though San Francisco brings this fruit

from Otaheite by a voyage of thirty days. A burr worse than any found

in California discourages the sheep-raiser in some of the Islands. The

cacao-tree has been tried, but a blight kills it. In the garden of Dr.

Hillebrandt, near Honolulu, I saw specimens of the cinnamon and allspice

trees; but again I was told that the blight attacked them, and did not

allow them to prosper. Wheat and other cereals grow and mature, but they

are subject to the attacks of weevil, so that they can not be stored or

shipped; and if you feed your horse oats or barley in Honolulu, these have

been imported from California. Silk-worms have been tried but failed. Rice

does well, and its culture is increasing.

Moreover, there is but an inconsiderable local market. A farmer on

Maui told me he had sent twenty bags of potatoes to Honolulu, and so

overstocked the market that he got back only the price of his bags. Eggs

and all other perishable products, for the same reason, vary much in

price, and are at times high-priced and hardly attainable. It will not do

for the farmer to raise much for sale. The population is not only divided

among different and distant islands, but it consists for much the largest

part of people who live sufficiently well on taro, sweet-potatoes, fish,

pork, and beef--all articles which they raise for themselves, and which

they get by labor and against disadvantages which few white farmers would

encounter.

For instance, the Puna coast of Hawaii is a district where for thirty

miles there is so little fresh water to be found that travelers must bring

their own supplies in bottles; and Dr. Coan told me that in former days

the people, knowing that he could not drink the brackish stuff which

satisfied them, used to collect fresh water for his use when he made the

missionary tour, from the drippings of dew in caves. Wells are here out

of the question, for there is no soil except a little decomposed lava, and

the lava lets through all the water which comes from rains. There are

few or no streams to be led down from the mountains. There are no fields,

according to our meaning of the word.

Formerly the people in this district were numbered by thousands: even

yet there is a considerable population, not unprosperous by any means.

Churches and schools are as frequent as in the best part of New England.

Yet when I asked a native to show me his sweet-potato patch, he took me

to the most curious and barren-looking collection of lava you can imagine,

surrounded, too, by a very formidable wall made of lava, and explained

to me that by digging holes in the lava where it was a little decayed,

carrying a handful of earth to each of these holes, and planting there in

a wet season, he got a very satisfactory crop. Not only that, but being

desirous of something more than a bare living, this man had planted a

little coffee in the same way, and had just sold 1600 pounds, his last

crop. He owned a good wooden house; politely gave up his own mats for me

to sleep on; possessed a Bible and a number of other works in Hawaiian;

after supper called his family together, who squatted on the floor while

he read from his Scriptures, and, after singing a hymn, knelt in family

prayers; and finally spent half an hour before going to bed in looking

over his newspaper. This man, thoroughly respectable, of good repute,

hospitable, comfortable in every way so far as I could see, lived,

and lived well, on twenty or thirty acres of lava, of which not even a

Vermonter would have given ten cents for a thousand acres; and which was

worthless to any one except a native Hawaiian.

Take next the grazing lands. In many parts they are so poorly supplied

with water that they can not carry much stock. They also are often

astonishingly broken up, for they frequently lie high up on the sides of

the mountains, and in many parts they are rocky and lava-covered beyond

belief. On Hawaii, the largest island, lava covers and makes desolate

hundreds of thousands of acres, and on the other and smaller islands,

except, perhaps, Kauai, there is corresponding desolation. Thus the area

of grazing lands is less than one would think. But on the other hand,

cattle are very cheaply raised. They require but little attention; and the

stock-owners, who are now boiling down their cattle and selling merely

the hides and tallow, are said to be just at this time the most prosperous

people on the Islands. Sheep are kept too, but not in great flocks except

upon the small island of Niihau, which was bought some years ago by two

brothers, Sinclair by name, who have now a flock of fifteen or eighteen

thousand sheep there, I am told; on Molokai and part of Hawaii; and upon

the small island of Lanai, where Captain Gibson has six or eight thousand

head.

One of the conspicuous trees of the Hawaiian forests is the Kukui or

candle-nut. Its pale green foliage gives the mountain sides sometimes a

disagreeable look; though where it grows among the Ko trees, whose leaves

are of a dark green, the contrast is not unpleasant. From its abundance

I supposed the candle-nut might be made an article of export; but the

country is so rough that the gathering of the nuts is very laborious; and

several persons who have experimented in expressing the oil from the nut

have discovered that it did not pay cost. Only two thousand pounds

of Kukui nuts were exported in 1872.

Sandal-wood was once a chief article of export. It grows on the higher

mountain slopes, and is still collected, for 20,232 pounds were exported

in 1872, and a small quantity is worked up in the Islands. The cocoa-nut

is not planted in sufficient quantities to make it an article of commerce.

Only 950 nuts were exported last year. Of pulu 421,227 pounds were

shipped; this is a soft fuzz taken from the crown of a species of fern;

it is used to stuff bedding, and is as warm, though not as durable, as

feathers. Also 32,161 pounds of "fungus," a kind of toad-stool which grows

on decaying wood, and is used in China as an article of food.

There has been no lack of ingenuity, enterprise, or industry among the

inhabitants. The Government has imported several kinds of trees and

plants, as the cinnamon, pepper, and allspice, but they have not

prospered. Private effort has not been wanting either. But nature does not

respond. Sugar and rice are and must it seems continue to be the staples

of the Islands; and the culture of these products will in time be

considerably increased.

This, it appears to me, decides the future of the Islands and the

character of their population. A sugar or rice plantation needs at most

three or four American workmen aside from the manager. The laboring

force will be Hawaiians or Chinese; for they alone work cheaply, and will

content themselves in the situation of plantation laborers. It is likely,

therefore, that the future population of the Islands will consist largely,

as it does now, of Hawaiians and Chinese, and a mixture of these two

races; and, no doubt, these will live very happily there.

[Illustration: NATIVE HAY PEDDLER.]

For farming, in the American sense of the word, the Islands are, as these

facts show, entirely unfit. I asked again and again of residents this

question: "Would you advise your friend in Massachusetts or Illinois, a

farmer with two or three thousand dollars in money, to settle out here?"

and received invariably the answer, "No; it would be wrong to do so."

Transportation of farm products from island to island is too costly; there

is no local market except Honolulu, and that is very rapidly and easily

overstocked; Oregon or California potatoes are sold in the Islands at

a price which would leave the local farmer without a profit. In short,

farming is not a pursuit in the Islands. A farmer would not starve, for

beef is cheap, and he could always raise vegetables enough for himself;

but he would not get ahead. Moreover, perishable fruits, like the banana,

have but a limited chance for export. The Islands, unluckily, lie to

windward of California; and a sailing vessel, beating up to San Francisco,

is very apt to make so long a passage that if she carries bananas they

spoil on the way. Hence but 4520 bunches were shipped from the Islands in

1872--which was all the monthly steamer had room for.

These circumstances seem to settle the question of annexation, which is

sometimes discussed. To annex the Islands would be to burden ourselves

with an outlying territory too distant to be cheaply defended; and

containing a population which will never be homogeneous with our own; a

country which would neither attract nor reward our industrious farmers and

mechanics; which offers not the slightest temptation to emigration, except

a most delightful climate, and which has, and must by its circumstances

and natural formation continue to have, chiefly a mixed population of

Chinese and other coolies, whom it is assuredly not to our interest to

take into our family. I suppose it is a proper rule that we should not

encumber ourselves with territory which by reason of unchangeable natural

causes will repel our farmers and artisans, and which, therefore, will not

become in time Americanized. If this is true, we ought not to annex the

Hawaiian Islands.

Moreover, there is no excuse for annexation, in the desire of the people.

The present Government is mild, just, and liked by the people. They can

easily make it cheaper whenever they want to. The native people are very

strongly opposed to annexation; they have a strong feeling of nationality,

and considerable jealousy of foreign influence. Annexation to our own or

any other country would be without their consent.

As to the residents of foreign birth, a few of them favor annexation to

the United States; but only a few. A large majority would oppose it as

strenuously as the native people. Most of the planters see that it would

break up their labor system, demoralize the workmen, and probably for

years check the production of sugar.

One thing is certain, however. If the Islands ever offer themselves to any

foreign power, it will be to the United States. Their people, foreign as

well as native, look to us as their neighbors and friends; and the king

last summer blurted out one day when too much wine had made him imprudent,

this truth: that if annexation came, it must be to the United States.

As I write a negotiation has been opened with the United States

Government, for the purpose of offering us Pearl River in exchange for a

reciprocity treaty. Pearl River is an extensive, deep, and well-protected

bay, about ten miles from Honolulu. It would answer admirably for a naval

station; and if the United States were a second-rate power likely to be

bullied by other nations, we might need a naval station in the Pacific

Ocean. In our present condition, when no single power dares to make war

with us, and when, unless we become shamelessly aggressive, no alliance of

European powers against us for purposes of war is possible, the chief use

of distant naval stations appears to me to be as convenient out-of-the-way

places for wasting the public money. Pearl River would be an admirable

spot for a dozen pleasant sinecures, and the expenditure of three or four

millions of money. It seems to me, therefore, that it would be a dear

bargain. For the accommodation of merchant steamers and ships and their

repair, Honolulu offers sufficient facilities. There are ingenious

American mechanics there who have even taken a frigate upon a temporary

dry-dock, and repaired her hull.

[Illustration: HULA-HULA, OR DANCING-GIRLS.]

But justice, kindly feeling, and a due regard for our future interests in

the Pacific Ocean ought to induce us to establish at once a reciprocity

treaty with the Hawaiian Government. We should lose but little revenue;

and should make good that loss by the greater market which would be opened

for our own products, in the Islands. Such a treaty would bring more

capital to the Islands, increase their prosperity, and, at the same time,

bind them still more closely and permanently to us. It would pave the way

to annexation, if that should ever become advisable.

The politics of the Hawaiian Kingdom are not very exciting. In those

fortunate Isles the Legislature troubles itself chiefly about the horse

and dog tax. The late king, who was of an irascible temper, did not always

treat his faithful Commons with conspicuous civility. He sometimes told

them that they had talked long enough and had better adjourn; and they

usually took his advice. The present king, who belonged to "his majesty's

opposition" during the late reign, has yet to develop his qualities as a

ruler. He has shown sound judgment in the nomination of his cabinet;

and he is believed to have the welfare of the people at heart. He is

unmarried; but is not likely to marry; and he will probably nominate a

successor from one of the chief or ruling families still remaining. The

list from which he can choose is not very long; and it is most probable,

as this is written, that he will nominate to succeed him Mrs. Bernice

Pauahi Bishop, wife of the present Minister of Foreign Affairs. Mrs.

Bishop is a lady of education and culture, of fine presence, every way fit

to rule over her people; and her selection would be satisfactory to the

foreign residents as well as to the best of the Hawaiian people.

[Illustration: HAWAIIAN STYLE OF DRESS.]

CHAPTER VII.

THE LEPER ASYLUM ON MOLOKAI.

So much has been said and written of late about the disease called leprosy

and its ravages in the Sandwich Islands that I had the curiosity to visit

the asylum for lepers at Molokai, where now very nearly all the people

suffering from this disease have been collected, under a law which directs

this seclusion.

The steamer _Kilauea_ left Honolulu one evening at half-past five o'clock,

and dropped several of us about two o'clock at night into a whale-boat

near a point on the lee side of Molokai. Here we were landed, and

presently mounted horses and rode seven or eight miles to the house of a

German, Mr. Meyer, who is the superintendent of the leper settlement, and

also, I believe, of a cattle farm which belongs to the heirs of the late

king.

Mr. Meyer has lived on Molokai since 1853. He is married to a Hawaiian,

and has a large family of sons and daughters who have been carefully and

excellently brought up, I was told. Mrs. Meyer, who presided at breakfast,

is one of those tall and grandly proportioned women whom you meet among

the native population not infrequently, who enable you to realize how it

was that in the old times the women exercised great influence in Hawaiian

politics. She seemed born to command, and yet her benevolent countenance

and friendly smile of welcome showed that she would probably rule gently.

From Mr. Meyer's we rode some miles again, until at last we dismounted at

the top or edge of the great precipice, at the foot of which, two thousand

feet below, lies the plain of Kalawao, occupied by the lepers. At the

top we four dismounted, for the trail to the bottom, though not generally

worse than the trail into the Yosemite Valley, has some places which would

be difficult and, perhaps, dangerous for horses.

From the edge of the Pali or precipice the plain below, which contains

about 16,000 acres, looks like an absolute flat, bounded on three sides by

the blue Pacific. Horses awaited us at the bottom, and we soon discovered

that the plain possessed some considerable elevations and depressions. It

is believed to have been once the bottom of a vast crater, of which the

Pali we clambered down formed one of the sides, the others having sunk

beneath the ocean, leaving a few traces on one side. It has yet one

considerable cone, a hill two hundred feet high, a well-preserved

subsidiary crater, on whose bottom grass is now growing, while a

little pool of salt water, which rises and falls with the tide, shows a

connection with the ocean. A ride along the shore showed me also several

other and smaller cones.

The whole great plain is composed of lava stones, and to one unfamiliar

with the habits of these islanders would seem to be an absolutely

sterile desert. Yet here lived, not very many years ago, a considerable

population, who have left the marks of an almost incredible industry in

numerous fields inclosed between walls of lava rock well laid up; and in

what is yet stranger, long rows of stones, like the windrows of hay in a

grass field at home, evidently piled there in order to secure room in the

long, narrow beds thus partly cleared of lava which lay between, to plant

sweet-potatoes. As I rode over the trails worn in the lava by the horses

of the old inhabitants, I thought this plain realized the Vermonter's

saying about a piece of particularly stony ground, that there was not room

in the field to pile up the rocks it contained.

Yet on this apparently desert space, within a quarter of a century more

than a thousand people lived contentedly and prosperously, after their

fashion; and this though fresh water is so scarce that many of them must

have carried their drinking water at least two or even three miles. And

here now live, among the lepers, or rather a little apart from them at

one side of the plain, about a hundred people, the remnant of the former

population, who were too much attached to their homes to leave them, and

accepted sentence of perpetual seclusion here, in common with the lepers,

rather than exile to a less sterile part of the island.

When we had descended the cliff, a short ride brought us to the house of

a luna, or local overseer, a native who is not a leper; and of this house,

being uncontaminated, we took possession.

By a law of the kingdom it is made the duty of the Minister of the

Interior, and under him of the Board of Health, to arrest every one

suspected of leprosy; and if a medical examination shows that he has the

disease, to seclude the leper upon this part of Molokai.

Leprosy, when it is beyond its very earliest stage, is held to be

incurable. He who is sent to Molokai is therefore adjudged civilly dead.

His wife, upon application to the proper court, is granted a decree of

absolute divorce, and may marry again; his estate is administered upon

as though he were dead. He is incapable of suing or being sued; and his

dealings with the world thereafter are through and with the Board of

Health alone.

In order that no doubtful cases may be sent to Molokai there is a hospital

at Kalihi, near Honolulu, where the preliminary examinations are made, and

where Dr. Trousseau, the skillful physician of the Board of Health, son of

the famous Paris physician of the same name, retains people about whom he

is uncertain.

The leper settlement at Molokai was begun so long ago as 1865; but the law

requiring the seclusion of lepers was not enforced under the late king,

who is believed to have been himself a sufferer from this disease, and

who, at any rate, by constantly granting exemptions, discouraged the

officers of the law. Since the accession of the present king, however, it

has been rigidly enforced, and it is this which has caused the sudden and

great outcry about leprosy, which has reached even to the United States,

and has caused many people, it seems, to fear to come to the Islands, as

though a foreigner would be liable to catch the disease.

You must understand that the native people have no fear of the disease.

Until the accession of the present king lepers were commonly kept in the

houses of their families, ate, drank, smoked, and slept with their own

people, and had their wounds dressed at home. If the disease were

quickly or readily contagious, it must have spread very rapidly in such

conditions; and that it did not spread greatly or rapidly is one of

the best proofs that it is not easily transmitted. When I remember how

commonly, among the native people, a whole family smokes out of the same

pipe, and sleeps together under the same tapa, I am surprised that so few

have the disease.

There are at this time eight hundred and four persons, lepers, in the

settlement, besides about one hundred non-lepers, who prefer to remain

there in their ancient homes. Since January, 1865, when the first leper

was sent here, one thousand one hundred and eighty have been received,

of whom seven hundred and fifty-eight were males and four hundred and

twenty-two females. Of this number three hundred and seventy-three

have died, namely, two hundred and forty-six males and one hundred and

twenty-seven females. Forty-two died between April 1 and August 13 of the

present year. The proportion of women to men is smaller than I thought;

and there are about fifty leper children, between the ages of six and

thirteen. Lepers are sterile, and no children have been born at the

asylum.

So great has been the energy and the vigilance of the Board of Health and

its physician, Dr. Trousseau, that there are not now probably fifty lepers

at large on all the islands, and these are persons who have been hidden

away in the mountains by their relatives. In fact if there was ever any

risk to foreign visitors from leprosy, this is now reduced to the minimum;

and as the disease is not caused by the climate, and can be got, as

the widest experience and the best authorities agree, only by intimate

contact, united with peculiar predisposition of the blood, there is not

the least ground for any foreign visitor to dread it.

When a leper is sent to Molokai, the Government provides him a house, and

he receives, if an adult, three pounds of paiai or unmixed poi, per day,

and three pounds of salt salmon, or five pounds of fresh beef, per week.

Beef is generally preferred.

They are allowed and encouraged to cultivate land, and their products are

bought by the Health Board; but the disease quickly attacks the feet and

hands, and disables the sufferers from labor.

There are two churches in the settlement, one Protestant, with a native

pastor, and one Catholic, with a white priest, a young Frenchman, who has

had the courage to devote himself to his co-religionists.

There is a store, kept by the Board of Health, the articles in which are

sold for cost and expenses. The people receive a good deal of money from

their relatives at home, which they spend in this store. The Government

also supplies all the lepers with clothing; and there is a post-office.

The little schooner which carried me back to Honolulu bore over two

hundred letters, the weekly mail from the leper settlement.

For the bad cases there is a hospital, an extensive range of buildings,

where one hundred patients lay when I visited it. These, being helpless,

are attended by other lepers, and receive extra rations of tea, sugar,

bread, rice, and other food.

Almost every one strong enough to ride has a horse; for the Hawaiians can

not well live without horses. Some of the people live on the shore and

make salt, which you see stored up in pandanus bags under the shelter of

lava bubbles. When I was there a number were engaged in digging a ditch

in which to lay an iron pipe, intended to convey fresh water to the denser

part of the settlement.

Such is the life on the leper settlement of Molokai; a precipitous cliff

at its back two thousand feet high; the ocean, looking here bluer and

lovelier than ever I saw it look elsewhere on three sides of it; the soft

trade-wind blowing across the lava-covered plain; eternal sunshine; a mild

air; horses; and the weekly excitement of the arrival of the schooner from

Honolulu with letters. There is sufficient employment for those who can

and like to work--and the Hawaiian is not an idle creature; and altogether

it is a very contented and happy community. The Islander has strong

feelings and affections, but they do not last long, and the people here

seemed to me to have made themselves quickly at home. I saw very few sad

faces, and there were mirth and laughter, and ready service and pleasant

looks all around us, as we rode or walked over the settlement.

And now, you will ask, what does a leper look like? Well, in the first

place, he is not the leper of the Scriptures; nor, I am assured, is the

disease at all like that which is said to occur in China. Indeed, the

poor Chinese have been unjustly accused of bringing this disease to the

Islands. With the first shipload of Chinese brought to these Islands

came two lepers "white as snow," having, that is to say, a disease very

different from that which now is called leprosy here. They were not

allowed to land, but were sent back in the ship which brought them out.

The Hawaiian leprosy, on the other hand, has been known here for a quarter

of a century, and men died of it before the first Chinese were brought

hither. The name Mai-Pakeh was given it by an accident, a foreigner saying

to a native that he had a disease such as they had in China. There are but

six Chinese in the Molokai leper settlement, and there are three white men

there.

The leprosy of the Islands is a disease of the blood, and not a skin

disease. It can be caught only, I am told, by contact of an abraded

surface with the matter of the leprous sore; and doubtless the familiar

habit of the people, of many smoking the same pipe, has done much to

disseminate it.

Its first noticeable signs are a slight puffiness under the eyes, and a

swelling of the lobes of the ears. To the practiced eyes of Dr. Trousseau

these signs were apparent where I could not perceive them until he laid

his finger on them. Next follow symptoms which vary greatly in different

individuals; but a marked sign is the retraction of the fingers, so that

the hand comes to resemble a bird's claw. In some cases the face swells

in ridges, leaving deep furrows between; and these ridges are shiny and

without feeling, so that a pin may be stuck into one without giving pain

to the person. The features are thus horribly deformed in many instances;

I saw two or three young boys of twelve who looked like old men of sixty.

In some older men and women, the face was at first sight revolting and

baboon-like; I say at first sight, for on a second look the mild sad eye

redeemed the distorted features; it was as though the man were looking out

of a horrible mask.

At a later stage of the disease these rugous swellings break open into

festering sores; the nose and even the eyes are blotted out, and the body

becomes putrid.

In other cases the extremities are most severely attacked. The fingers,

after being drawn in like claws, begin to fester. They do not drop off,

but seem rather to be absorbed, the nails following the stumps down; and I

actually saw finger-nails on a hand that had no fingers. The nails were on

the knuckles; the fingers had all rotted away.

The same process of decay goes on with the toes; in some cases the whole

foot had dropped away; and in many the hands and feet were healed over,

the fingers and toes having first dropped off. But the healing of the sore

is but temporary, for the disease presently breaks out again.

Emaciation does not seem to follow. I saw very few wasted forms, and those

only in the hospitals and among the worst cases. There appears to be an

astonishing tenacity of life, and I was told they mostly choke to death,

or fall into a fever caused by swallowing the poison of their sores when

these attack the nose and throat.

Those diseased give out soon a very sickening odor, and I was much obliged

to a thoughtful man in the settlement, who commanded the lepers who had

gathered together to hear an address from the doctor to form to leeward

of us. I expected to be sickened by the hospitals; but these are so well

kept, and are so easily ventilated by the help of the constantly blowing

trade-wind, that the odor was scarcely perceptible in them.

You will, perhaps, ask how the disease is contracted. I doubt if any one

knows definitely. But from all I heard, I judge that there must be some

degree of predisposition toward it in the person to be contaminated. I

believe I have Dr. Trousseau's leave to say that the contact of a wounded

or abraded surface with the matter of a leprous sore will convey the

disease; this is, of course, inoculation; and he seemed to think no other

method of contamination probable. I was careful to provide myself with a

pair of gloves when I visited the settlement, to protect myself in case I

should be invited to shake hands; but I noticed that the doctor fearlessly

shook hands with some of the worst cases, even where the fingers were

suppurating and wrapped in rags.

There are several women on the Islands, confirmed lepers, whose husbands

are at home and sound; one, notably, where the husband is a white man. On

the other hand, a woman was pointed out to me who had had three husbands,

each of whom in a short time after marrying her became a leper. There

are children lepers, whose parents are not lepers; and there are parents

lepers, whose children are at home and healthy.

There are three white men on the island, lepers, two of them in a very bad

state. So far as I could learn the particulars of their previous history,

they had lived flagitiously loose lives; such as must have corrupted their

blood long before they became lepers. In some other cases of native lepers

I came upon similar histories; and while I do not believe that every case,

or indeed perhaps a majority of cases, involves such a previous career of

vice, I should say that this is certainly a strongly predisposing cause.

As to the danger of infection to a foreign visitor, there is absolutely

none, unless he should undertake to live in native fashion among the

natives, smoking out of their pipes, sleeping under their tapas, and

eating their food with them; and even in such an extreme case his risk

would be very slight now, so thoroughly has the disease been "stamped out"

by the energetic action of Mr. Hall, the Minister of the Interior, Mr.

Samuel G. Wilder, the head of the Board of Health, and Dr. Trousseau, its

physician. In short, there is no more risk of a white resident or traveler

catching leprosy in the Hawaiian Islands than in the city or State of New

York.

[Illustration: NATIVE PIPE. NECKLACE OF HUMAN HAIR.]

I have heard one reason given why this disease has been more frequent in

the last ten years. Ten or twelve years ago the Islands were visited by

smallpox. This disease made terrible ravages, and the Government at once

ordered the people to be vaccinated. There seems to be no doubt that the

vaccine matter used was often taken from persons not previously in sound

health; this was perhaps unavoidable; but intelligent men, long resident

in the Islands, believe that vaccination thus performed with impure matter

had a bad effect upon the people, leaving traces of a resulting corruption

of their blood.

The choice of the plain of Kalawao as the spot on which to seclude the

lepers from all the Islands was very happy. It can not be said that to an

agile native the place is inaccessible, for there are, no doubt, several

points in the great precipice where men and women could make their

way down or up; and there are instances of women swimming around the

precipitous and surf-beaten shore, seven or eight miles, to reach husbands

or friends in the settlement to whom they were devotedly attached. But

it is easily guarded, and, for all practical purposes, the seclusion is

perfect.

A singular tradition, related to me on the island, points to its use for

such a purpose and gives a sad significance to the leper settlement. It is

said that in the time of the first Kamehameha, the conqueror and hero of

his race, upon an occasion when he visited Molokai, an old sorceress or

priestess sent him word that she had made a garment for him--a robe of

honor--which she desired him to come and get. He returned for answer a

command that she should bring it to him; and when the old hag appeared,

the king desired her to tell him something of the future. She replied that

he would conquer all the Islands, and rule over them but a brief time;

that his own posterity would die out; and that finally all his race would

be gathered together on Molokai; and that this small island would be large

enough to hold them all.

It is probable, of course, that this tale is of recent origin, and that no

priestess of Kamehameha the First possessed so fatal and accurate a gift

of prophecy; but the tale, told me in the midst of the leper asylum,

pointed to the gloomy end of the race with but too plain a finger. The

Hawaiians, once so numerous as to occupy almost all the habitable parts

of all the Islands, have so greatly decreased that they might almost find

their support on the little island of Molokai alone. Happily the decrease

has now ceased.

The great Pali of Molokai, one of the most remarkable and picturesque

sights of the Islands, stretches for a dozen miles along its windward

coast. It is a sheer precipice, in most parts from a thousand to two

thousand feet high, washed by the sea at its base, and having, in most

parts, not a trace of beach. This vast wall of rock is an impressive

sight; here the shipwrecked mariner would be utterly helpless; but would

drown, not merely in sight of land, but with his hands vainly grasping for

even a bush, or root, or a projecting rock.

NORTHERN CALIFORNIA:

ITS AGRICULTURAL VALLEYS, DAIRIES, FORESTS,

FRUIT-FARMS, ETC.

[Illustration: NORTHERN CALIFORNIA.]

[Illustration: A CALIFORNIA VINEYARD.]

CHAPTER I.

THE SACRAMENTO VALLEY: A GENERAL VIEW, WITH HINTS TO TOURISTS AND

SPORTSMEN.

The State of California extends over somewhat more than ten degrees of

latitude. If it lay along the Atlantic as it lies along the Pacific coast,

its boundaries would include the whole shore-line from Cape Cod to Hilton

Head, and its limits would take in the greater portion of ten of the

original States.

It contains two great mountain ranges--the Sierra Nevada and the Coast

Range. These, running parallel through the State, approach each other so

closely at the south as to leave only the narrow Tejon Pass between them;

while at the north they also come together, Mount Shasta rearing its

splendid snow-covered summit over the two mountain chains where they are

joined.

Inclosed within these mountain ranges lies a long, broad, fertile valley,

which was once, no doubt, a great inland sea. It still contains in the

southern part three considerable lakes--the Tulare, Kern, and Buena

Vista--and is now drained from the south by the San Joaquin River, flowing

out of these lakes, and from the north by the Sacramento, which rises near

the base of Mount Shasta. These two rivers, the one flowing north, the

other south, join a few miles below Sacramento, and empty their waters

into the bay of San Francisco.

That part of the great inland plain of California which is drained by the

Sacramento is called after its river. It is more thickly inhabited than

the southern or San Joaquin Valley, partly because the foot-hills on its

eastern side were the scene of the earliest and longest continued, as well

as the most successful, mining operations; partly because the Sacramento

River is navigable for a longer distance than the San Joaquin, and thus

gave facilities for transportation which the lower valley had not; and,

finally, because the Sacramento Valley had a railroad completed through

its whole extent some years earlier than the San Joaquin Valley.

The climate of the Sacramento Valley does not differ greatly from that of

the San Joaquin, yet there are some important distinctions. Lying further

north, it has more rain; in the upper part of the valley they sometimes

see snow; there is not the same necessity for irrigation as in the lower

valley; and though oranges flourish in Marysville, and though the almond

does well as far north as Chico, yet the cherry and the plum take the

place of the orange and lemon; and men build their houses somewhat more

solidly than further south.

The romance of the early gold discovery lies mostly in the Sacramento

Valley and the adjacent foot-hills. Between Sacramento and Marysville lay

Sutter's old fort, and near Marysville is Sutter's farm, where you may

still see his groves of fig-trees, under whose shade the country people

now hold their picnics; his orchards, which still bear fruit; and his

house, which is now a country tavern.

Of all his many leagues of land the old man has, I believe, but a few

acres left; and of the thousands who now inhabit and own what once was

his, not a dozen would recognize him, and many probably scarcely know

his name. His riches melted away, as did those of the great Spanish

proprietors; and he who only a quarter of a century ago owned a territory

larger than some States, and counted his cattle by the thousands--if,

indeed, he ever counted them--who lived in a fort like a European noble of

the feudal times, had an army of Indians at his command, and occasionally

made war on the predatory tribes who were his neighbors, now lives upon a

small annuity granted him by the State of California. He saved little, I

have heard, from the wreck of his fortunes; and of all who were with him

in his earlier days, but one, so far as I know--General Bidwell, of Chico,

an able and honorable gentleman, once Sutter's manager--had the ability to

provide for the future by retaining possession of his own estate of twenty

thousand acres, now by general consent the finest farm in California.

As you go north in California the amount of rain-fall increases. In San

Diego County they are happy with ten inches per annum, and fortunate if

they get five; in Santa Barbara, twelve and a half inches insure their

crops; the Sacramento Valley has an average rain-fall of about twenty

inched, and eighteen inches insure them a full crop on soil properly

prepared. In 1873 they had less, yet the crops did well wherever the

farmers had summer-fallowed the land. This practice is now very general,

and is necessary, in order that the grain may have the advantage of the

early rains. When a farmer plows and prepares his land in the spring, lets

it lie all summer, and sows his grain in November just as the earliest

rain begins, he need not fear for his crop.

There is less difference in climate than one would suppose between

the Sacramento and the San Joaquin valleys. Cattle and sheep live

out-of-doors, and support themselves all the year round in the Shasta

Valley on the north as constantly as in Los Angeles or any other of the

southern counties. The seasons are a little later north than south, but

the difference is slight; and as far north as Red Bluff, in the interior,

they begin their harvest earlier than in Monterey County, far south but

on the coast. Snow rarely lies on the ground in the northern counties more

than a day. The best varieties of the foreign grapes are hardy everywhere.

Light frosts come in December; and in the flower-gardens the geranium

withers to the ground, but springs up from the roots again in March. The

eucalyptus flourishes wherever it has been planted in Northern California;

and as far north as Redding, at the head of the valley, the mercury very

rarely falls below twenty-five degrees, and remains there but a few hours.

[Illustration: WINE VATS.]

As you travel from Marysville, either northward or southward, you will see

before and around you a great wide plain, bounded on the west by the blue

outlines of the Coast Range, and on the east by the foot-hills of the

Sierra: a great level, over which as far as your eye can reach are

scattered groves of grand and picturesque white oaks, which relieve the

solitude of the plain, and make it resemble a well-planted park. Wherever

the valley is settled, you will see neat board fences, roomy barns, and

farm-houses nestling among trees, and flanked by young orchards. You will

not find a great variety of crops, for wheat and barley are the staple

products of this valley; and though the farms here are in general of 640

acres or less, there are not wanting some of those immense estates for

which California is famous; and a single farmer in this valley is said to

have raised on his own land last year one-twentieth of the entire wheat

crop of the State.

Northwest of Marysville the plain is broken by a singularly lovely range

of mountains, the Buttes. They rise abruptly from the plain, and their

peaks reach from two to three thousand feet high. It is an extremely

pretty miniature mountain range, having its peaks, passes, and cañons--all

the features of the Sierra--and it is well worth a visit. Butte is a word

applied to such isolated mountains, which do not form part of a chain, and

which are not uncommon west of the Mississippi. Shasta is called a butte;

Lassen's Peaks are buttes; and the traveler across the continent hears the

word frequently applied to mountain. It is pronounced with the _u_ long.

Along the banks of the Sacramento there are large quantities of land which

is annually overflowed by the river, and much of which is still only used

for pasturage during the dry season, when its grasses support large herds

of cattle and sheep, which are driven to the uplands when the rains begin

to fall. But much of this swamp and tule land has been drained and diked,

and is now used for farm land. It produces heavy crops of wheat, and

its reclamation has been, and continues to be, one of the successful

speculations in land in this State. It will not be long before the shores

of the Sacramento and its tributaries will be for many miles so diked that

these rivers will never break their bounds, and thus a very considerable

area will be added to the fertile farming lands of the State.

Already, however, the Yuba, the Feather, and the American rivers,

tributaries of the Sacramento, have been leveed at different points for

quite another reason. These rivers, once clear and rapidly flowing within

deep banks, are now turbid, in many places shallow, and their bottoms have

been raised from twenty to thirty feet by the accumulation of the washings

from the gold mines in the foot-hills. It is almost incredible the

change the miners have thus produced in the short space of a quarter of a

century. The bed of the Yuba has been raised thirty feet in that time; and

seeing what but a handful of men have effected in so short a period, the

work of water in the denudation of mountains, and the scouring out

or filling up of valleys during geological periods becomes easily

comprehensible.

All our Northern fruits thriftily in the Sacramento Valley, and also

the almond, of which thousands of trees have been planted, and a few

considerable orchards are already in bearing. The cherry and the plum do

remarkably well, the latter fruit having as yet no curculio or blight; and

the canning and drying of peaches, plums, apricots, nectarines, and pears

are already, as I shall show in detail farther on, a considerable as well

as very profitable business. Dried plums, in particular, sell at a price

which makes the orchards of this fruit very valuable. Excellent raisins

have also been made, and they sell in the open market of San Francisco

for a price very little less than that of the best Malaga raisins. The

climate, with its long dry summer, is very favorable to the drying and

curing of every fruit: no expensive houses, no ovens or other machinery,

are needed. The day is not distant when the great Sacramento plain will

be a vast orchard, and the now unoccupied foot-hills will furnish a large

part of the raisins consumed in the United States. For the present the

population is scant, and cattle, horses, and especially sheep, roam

over hundreds of thousands of acres of soil which needs only industrious

farmers to make it bloom into a garden.

[Illustration: TRAINING A VINE.]

The farmer in this State is a person of uncommon resources and ingenuity.

I think he uses his brains more than our Eastern farmers. I do not mean to

say that he lives better, for he does not. His house is often shabby, even

though he be a man of wealth, and his table is not unfrequently without

milk; he buys his butter with his canned vegetables in San Francisco, and

bread and mutton are the chief part of his living, both being universally

good here. But in managing his land he displays great enterprise, and has

learned how to fit his efforts to the climate and soil.

The gathering of the wheat crop goes on in all the valley lands with

headers, and you will find on all the farms in the Sacramento Valley the

best labor-saving machinery employed, and human labor, which is always the

most costly, put to its best and most profitable uses. They talk here of

steam-plows and steam-wagons for common roads, and I have no doubt the

steam-plow will be first practically and generally used, so far as the

United States are concerned, in these Californian valleys, where I have

seen furrows two miles long, and ten eight-horse teams following each

other with gang-plows.

Withal, they are somewhat ruthless in their pursuit of a wheat crop. You

may see a farmer who plows hundreds of acres, but he will have his wheat

growing up to the edge of his veranda. If he keeps a vegetable garden, he

has performed a heroic act of self-denial; and as for flowers, they must

grow among the wheat or nowhere.

Moreover, while he has great ingenuity in his methods, the farmer of the

Sacramento plain has but little originality in his planting. He raises

wheat and barley. He might raise a dozen, a score, of other products, many

more profitable, and all obliging him to cultivate less ground, but it

is only here and there you meet with one who appreciates the remarkable

capabilities of the soil and climate. Near Tehama some Chinese have in

the last two years grown large crops of pea-nuts, and have, I was told,

realized handsome profits from a nut which will be popular in America,

I suppose, as long as there is a pit or a gallery in a theatre; but the

pea-nut makes a valuable oil, and as it produces enormously here, it will

some day be raised for this use, as much as for the benefit of the

old women who keep fruit-stands on the street corners. It would not be

surprising if the Chinese, who continue to come over to California in

great numbers, should yet show the farmers here what can be done on small

farms by patient and thorough culture. As yet they confine their culture

of land mainly to vegetable gardens.

To the farmer the valley and foot-hill lands of the Sacramento will be the

most attractive; and there are still here thousands of acres in the hands

of the Government and the railroad company to be obtained so cheaply

that, whether for crops or for grazing, it will be some time before the

mountainous lands and the pretty valleys they contain, north of Redding,

the present terminus of the railroad, will attract settlers. But for the

traveler the region north of Redding to the State line offers uncommon

attractions.

The Sacramento Valley closes in as you journey northward; and at

Red Bluff, which is the head of navigation on the river, you have a

magnificent view of Lassen's Peaks on the east--twin peaks, snow-clad, and

rising high out of the plain--and also of the majestic snow-covered crag

which is known as Shasta Butte, which towers high above the mountains to

the north, and, though here 120 miles off, looks but a day's ride away.

Redding, thirty miles north from Shasta, lies at the head of the

Sacramento Valley. From there a line of stage-coaches proceeds north

into Oregon, through the mass of mountains which separates the Sacramento

Valley in California from the Willamette Valley in Oregon. The stage-road

passes through a very varied and picturesque country, one which few

pleasure travelers see, and which yet is as well worth a visit as any part

of the western coast. The Sacramento River, which rises in a large

spring near the base of Mount Shasta, has worn its way through the high

mountains, and rushes down for nearly a hundred miles of its course an

impetuous, roaring mountain stream, abounding in trout at all seasons,

and in June, July, and August filled with salmon which have come up here

through the Golden Gates from the ocean to spawn. The stage-road follows

almost to its source the devious course of the river, and you ride along

sometimes nearly on a level with the stream, and again on a road-bed cut

out of the steep mountain side a thousand or fifteen hundred feet above

the river; through fine forests of sugar-pines and yellow pines many of

which come almost up to the dimensions of the great sequoias.

The river and its upper tributaries abound in trout, and this region is

famous among Californian sportsmen for deer and fish. Many farm-houses

along the road accommodate travelers who desire to stay to enjoy the fine

scenery, and to hunt and fish; and a notable stopping-place is Fry's Soda

Spring, fourteen hours by stage from Redding, kept by Isaac Fry and his

excellent wife--a clean, comfortable little mountain inn, where you get

good and well-cooked food, and where you will find what your stage ride

will make welcome to you--a comfortable bath. The river is too cold for

bathing here in the mountains because of the snow-water of which it is

composed. About ten miles south of Fry's lies Castle Rock, a remarkable

and most picturesque mountain of white granite, bare for a thousand feet

below its pinnacled summit, which you see as you drive past it on the

stage.

Fry's lies in a deep canon, with a singular, almost precipitous, mountain

opposite the house, which terminates in a sharp ridge at the top, one of

those "knife-edge" ridges of which Professor Whitney and Clarence King

often speak in their descriptions of Sierra scenery. If you are a mountain

climber, you have here an opportunity for an adventure, and an excellent

guide in Mr. Fry, who told me that this ridge is sharp enough to straddle,

and that on the other side is an almost precipitous descent, with a fine

lake in the distance. If you wish to hunt deer or bear, you will find

in Fry an expert and experienced hunter. He has a tame doe, which, I was

told, is better than a dog to mark game on a hunt, its sharp ears and

nose detecting the presence of game at a great distance. If you are

a fisherman, there are within three minutes' walk of the house pools

abounding in trout, and you may fish up and down the river as far as you

please, with good success everywhere. In June and July, when the salmon

come up to spawn, they, too, lie in the deepest pools, and with salmon

eggs for bait you may, if you are expert enough with your rod, take many a

fat salmon.

[Illustration: A BOTTLING-CELLAR.]

It is astonishing to see how the salmon crowd the river at the spawning

season. The Indians then gather from a considerable distance, to spear and

trap these fish, which they dry for winter use; and you will see at this

season many picturesque Indian camps along the river. They set a crotch of

two sticks in a salmon pool, and lay a log from the shore to this crotch.

Upon this log the Indian walks out, with a very long spear, two-pronged at

the end and there armed with two bone spear-heads, which are fastened to

the shaft of the spear by very strong cord, usually made of deer's sinews.

The Indian stands very erect and in a really fine attitude, and peers into

the black pool until his eye catches the silver sheen of a salmon. Then

he darts, and instantly you see a commotion in the water as he hauls up

toward the surface a struggling twenty-five or thirty pound fish. The

bone spear heads, when they have penetrated the salmon, come off from the

spear, and the fish is held by the cord. A squaw stands ready on the shore

to haul him in, and he is beaten over the head with a club until he ceases

to struggle, then cleaned, and roasted on hot stones. When the meat is

done and dry it is picked off the bones, and the squaws rub it to a fine

powder between their hands, and in this shape it is packed for future use.

From one of these pools a dozen Indian spearmen frequently draw out four

hundred salmon in a day, and this fish forms an important part of their

food. Of course they kill a great many thousand female salmon during the

season; but so far, I believe, this murderous work has not been found to

decrease the number of the fish which annually enter the river from the

ocean, and go up to its head waters to spawn.

If you visit this region during the last of June or in July, you may watch

the salmon spawning, a most curious and remarkable sight. The great fish

then leave the deep pools in which they have been quietly lying for some

weeks before, and fearlessly run up on the shallow ripples. Here, animated

by a kind of fury, they beat the sand off the shoals with their tails,

until often a female salmon thus labors till her tail fins are entirely

worn off. She then deposits her eggs upon the coarse gravel, and the

greedy trout, which are extravagantly fond of salmon eggs, rush up to eat

them as the poor mother lays them. They are, I believe, watched and beaten

off by the male salmon, which accompanies the female for this purpose.

When the female salmon has deposited her eggs, and the male salmon has

done his part of the work, the two often bring stones of considerable size

in their mouths to cover up the eggs and protect them from the predatory

attacks of the trout.

And thereupon, according to the universal testimony of the fishermen of

these waters, the salmon dies. I was assured that the dead bodies often

cumber the shore after the spawning season is over; and the mountaineers

all assert that the salmon, having once spawned up here, does not go down

to the ocean again. They hold that the young salmon stay in the upper

waters for a year, and go to sea about eighteen months after hatching; and

it is not uncommon, I believe, for fishermen hereabouts to catch grilse

weighing from two to four pounds. These bite sometimes at the fly. The

salmon bite, too, when much smaller, for I caught one day a young salmon

not more than six inches long. This little fellow was taken with a bait

of salmon eggs, and his bright silvery sides made him quite different from

the trout which I was catching out of the same pool. His, head, also

had something of the fierce, predatory, hawk-like form which the older

salmon's has.

Fry is an excellent fisherman himself, and knows all the best pools within

reach of his house, and, if you are a mountaineer, will take you a dozen

miles through the woods to other streams, where you may fish and hunt for

days or weeks with great success, for these woods and waters are as yet

visited by but few sportsmen.

And if you happen to come upon Indian fishermen on your way--they are all

peaceful hereabouts--you may get the noble red man's opinion of the

great Woman Question. As I stood at the road-side one day I saw an Indian

emerging from the woods, carrying his rifle and his pipe. Him followed,

at a respectful distance, his squaw, a little woman not bigger than a

twelve-year-old boy; and _she_ carried, first, a baby; second, three

salmon, each of which weighed not less than twenty pounds; third, a wild

goose, weighing six or eight pounds; finally, a huge bundle of some kind

of greens. This cumbrous and heavy load the Indian had lashed together

with strong thongs, and the squaw carried it on her back, suspended by a

strap which passed across her forehead.

When an Indian kills a deer he loads it on the back of his squaw to carry

home. Arrived there, he lights his pipe, and she skins and cleans the

animal, cuts off a piece sufficient for dinner, lights a fire, and cooks

the meat. This done, the noble red man, who has calmly or impatiently

contemplated these labors of the wife of his bosom, lays down his pipe and

eats his dinner. When he is done, the woman, who has waited at one side,

sits down to hers and eats what he has left.

"Who would be free, themselves must strike the blow." Miss Anthony and

Mrs. Cady Stanton have good missionary ground among these Indians. One

wonders in what language an Indian brave courts the young squaw whom he

wishes to marry; what promises he makes her; what hopes he holds out;

with what enticing views of wedded bliss he lures the Indian maiden to the

altar or whatever may be the Digger substitute for that piece of church

furniture. One wonders that the squaws have not long ago combined and

struck for at least moderately decent treatment; that marriages have not

ceased among them; that there has not arisen among the Diggers, the Pit

River Indians, and all the Indian tribes, some woman capable of leading

her sex in a rebellion.

But, to tell the truth, the Indian women are homely to the last degree.

"Ugly," said an Oregonian to me, as we contemplated a company of

squaws--"ugly is too mild a word to apply to such faces;" and he was

right. Broad-faced, flat-nosed, small-eyed, unkempt, frowzy, undersized,

thickset, clumsy, they have not a trace of beauty about them, either young

or old. They are just useful, nothing more; and as you look at them and

at the burdens they bear, you wonder whether, when the Woman's Rights

movement has succeeded, and when women, dressed like frights in such

Bloomer costume as may then be prescribed, go out to their daily toil like

men, and on an equality with men--when they have cast off the beauty which

is so scornfully spoken of in the conventions, and have secured their

rights--whether they will be any better off than these squaws. When you

have thoughtfully regarded the Indian woman perhaps you will agree with

Gail Hamilton that it is woman's first duty to be useless; for it is plain

that here, as in a higher civilization, when women consent to work as men,

they are sure to have the hardest work and the poorest pay.

[Illustration: INDIAN RANCHERIA.]

As you ascend the Sacramento you near Mount Shasta, and when you reach

Strawberry Valley, a pretty little mountain vale, you are but a short ride

from its base. It is from this point that tourists ascend the mountain.

You can hire horses, guides, and a camp outfit here, and the adventure

requires three days. You ride up to the snow-line the first day, ascend to

the top the following morning, descend to your camp in the afternoon, and

return to the valley on the third day. Mount Shasta has a glacier, almost,

but not quite, the only one, I believe, within the limits of the United

States. The mountain is an extinct volcano. Its summit is composed of

lava, and if your eye is familiar with the peculiar shape of volcanic

peaks, you can easily trace the now broken lines of this old crater as you

view the mountain from the Shasta plain on the north.

There are many extremely pretty valleys scattered through these mountains,

and these are used by small farmers, and by sheep and cattle owners who

in the winter take their stock into the lower valleys, but ascend into the

mountains in May, and remain until October. This is also a timber region,

and as it is well watered by permanent streams you see frequent saw-mills,

and altogether more improvement than one expects to find. But, proceeding

further north you come upon a large plain, the Shasta Valley, in which

lies the considerable town of Yreka, notable during the last winter and

spring as the point from which news came to us about the Modoc war.

From Yreka you may easily visit the celebrated "lava beds," where the

Indians made so stubborn and long-continued a defense against the United

States troops; and at Yreka you may hear several opinions upon the merits

of the Modocs and their war. You will hear, for instance, that the Indians

were stirred up to hostilities by mischievous and designing whites, that

white men were not wanting to supply them with arms and ammunition, and

that, had it not been for the unscrupulous management of some greedy and

wicked whites, we should not have been horrified by the shocking incidents

of this costly Indian trouble, in which the United States Government for

six months waged war against forty-six half-starved Modocs.

The Shasta Valley is an extensive plain, chiefly used at present as

a range for cattle and sheep. But its soil is fertile, and the valley

contains some good farms. Beyond Yreka gold mining is pursued, and,

indeed, almost the whole of the mountain region north of Redding yields

"the color;" and at many points along the Upper Sacramento and the

mountain streams which fall into it, gold is mined profitably. One day,

at the Soda Spring, several of us asked Mr. Fry whether he could find

gold near the river. He took a pan, and digging at random in his orchard,

washed out three or four specks of gold; and he related that when he was

planting this orchard ten years ago he found gold in the holes he dug for

his apple-trees. But he is an old miner, and experience has taught him

that a good apple orchard is more profitable, in the long run, than a poor

gold mine.

A large part of the Sacramento Valley is still used for grazing purposes,

but the farmers press every year more and more upon the graziers; and the

policy of the Government in holding its own lands within what are called

"railroad limits"--that is to say, within twenty miles on each side of the

railroad--for settlement under the pre-emption and homestead laws, as well

as the policy of the railroad company in selling its lands, the alternate

sections for twenty miles on each side of the road, on easy terms and with

long credit to actual settlers, prevents land monopoly in this region.

There is room, and cheap and fertile land, for an immense population

of industrious farmers, who can live here in a mild climate, and till

a fertile soil, and who need only intelligence and enterprise to raise

profitably raisins, orchard fruits, castor-oil, peanuts, silk, and a

dozen other products valuable in the world's commerce, and not produced

elsewhere in this country so easily. It is still in this region a time of

large farms poorly tilled; but I believe that small farms, from 160 to 320

acres, will prove far more profitable in the end.

The progress of California in material enterprises is something quite

wonderful and startling. A year brings about changes for which one can

hardly look in ten years. It is but eighteen months ago that the idea of a

system of irrigation, to include the whole of the San Joaquin Valley, was

broached, and then the most sanguine of the projectors thought that to

give their enterprise a fair start would require years, and a great number

of shrewd men believed the whole scheme visionary. But a few experiments

showed to land-owners and capitalists the enormous advantages of

irrigation, and now this scheme has sufficient capital behind it, and

large land-holders are offering subsidies and mortgaging their lands

to raise means to hasten the completion of the canal. Two years ago

the reclamation of the tule lands, though begun, advanced slowly,

and arguments were required to convince men that tule land was a safe

investment. But this year eight hundred miles of levee will be completed,

and thousands of acres will bear wheat next harvest which were overflowed

eighteen months ago. Two years ago the question whether California could

produce good raisins could not be answered; but last fall raisins which

sold in the San Francisco market beside the best Malagas were cured by

several persons, and it is now certain that this State can produce--and

from its poorest side-hill lands--raisins enough to supply the whole

Union. Not a year passes but some new and valuable product of the soil is

naturalized in this State; and one who has seen the soil and who knows the

climate of the two great valleys, who sees that within five, or, at most,

ten years all their overflowed lands will be diked and reclaimed, and all

their dry lands will be irrigated, and who has, besides, seen how wide is

the range of products which the soil and climate yield, comes at last to

have what seems to most Eastern people an exaggerated view of the future

of California.

But, in truth, it is not easy to exaggerate, for the soil in the great

valleys is deep and of extraordinary fertility; there are no forests to

clear away, and farms lie ready-made to the settlers' hands; the range of

products includes all those of the temperate zone and many of the torrid;

the climate is invigorating, and predisposes to labor; and the seasons are

extraordinarily favorable to the labors of the farmer and gardener. The

people have not yet settled down to hard work. There are so many chances

in life out there that men become overenterprising--a speculative spirit

invades even the farm-house; and as a man can always live--food being

so abundant and the climate so kindly--and as the population is as yet

sparse, men are tempted to go from one avocation to another, to do many

things superficially, and to look for sudden fortunes by the chances of

a shrewd venture, rather than be content to live by patient and continued

labor. This, however, is the condition of all new countries; it will pass

away as population becomes more dense. And, meantime California has gifts

of nature which form a solid substratum upon which will, in a few years,

be built up a community productive far beyond the average of wealthy or

productive communities. This is my conclusion after seeing all parts of

this State more in detail than perhaps any one man has taken the trouble

to examine it.

[Illustration: PIEDRAS BLANCAS.]

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