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Scenes in the Hawaiian Islands and California
by Mary Evarts Anderson
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SCENES IN THE HAWAIIAN ISLANDS AND CALIFORNIA.

BY MARY E. ANDERSON.

"The isles shall wait upon me, and on mine arm shall they trust."

ISAIAH II. 5.

BOSTON: THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. Instituted 1814. DEPOSITORIES, 28 CORNHILL, BOSTON, AND 13 BIBLE HOUSE, ASTOR PLACE, NEW YORK.



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by THE AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.

CORNHILL PRESS: DAKIN AND METCALF, BOSTON.



NOTE BY THE PUBLISHERS.

In the year 1863, Rev. Rufus Anderson, D. D., senior Secretary of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, visited the Hawaiian Islands on official business connected with the missionary work of that institution. He was accompanied, in that visit, by his wife and daughter, the latter of whom preserved some memoranda of the journey and the scenes to which it introduced her, for the gratification of her friends. From these notes the present volume has been prepared. The interest which the friends of missions in this country have long cherished for that people—youngest born in the family of Christian nations—will lead them to welcome these unpretending sketches, as affording both instruction and entertainment to themselves and their children.



CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.—FROM NEW YORK TO ASPINWALL.

The Bargain.—Our Steamer and Staterooms.—A Schooner in a bad Place.—Porpoises.—Pirate Alabama. 9

CHAPTER II.—ISTHMUS OF DARIEN.

Baggage.—Wreck.—Isthmus Toilets.—Aspinwall.—Tropical Scenery.—Huts. 17

CHAPTER III.—PANAMA.

Tiled Houses.—Emigrants.—"Nice Lomonard."—First-Class Hotel.—Mud Pies and Clean Clothes.—Crabs.—Aquaria. —Borrowed Houses.—Cathedral.—At Anchor.—Toboga. —Accommodations.—Dessert. 24

CHAPTER IV.—FROM PANAMA TO SAN FRANCISCO.

A Rocket.—Acapulco.—On Shore.—Adobe Houses.—Market-Place. —No Breakfast.—Boys Diving.—Devil-Fish.—A real Sunday.—Manzanilla.—Golden Gate.—Baby Afloat.—Lives Lost.—Backbone of America.—Inspecting.—"Baa."—Bill of Fare.—At the Wharf. 33

CHAPTER V.—SAN FRANCISCO.

Lick House.—At Church.—Mission Dolores.—Street Cars.—A Ride.—Hills.—Surf.—Old Church and Burying-Ground.—The One Rose.—Good-bys.—Union Jack.—"Dropped Down."—The Bar.—All Sails set.—Racks.—Rolls.—Bell Buoy. 45

CHAPTER VI.—HONOLULU.

Desolation.—A Delightful Contrast.—Boats Alongside. —Hurrah!—Farewells and Greetings.—A Home on Shore. —Friends.—Cousins' Society.—Fairy-Land.—The Serenade.—Church Bells.—Native Church.—Native Industry, Liberality, and Perseverance.—Dress.—"Aloha." 54

CHAPTER VII.—HONOLULU CONTINUED.

A Dinner Party.—Punch Bowl.—An extinct Crater.—Taro Patches.—Ovens.—Poi and Raw Fish.—Fingers better than Spoons.—A Donation Party.—Prince William.—Tomb of the Kings.—Prayer-Meeting.—Examination.—A Green Rose.—Home Letters.—The Palace.—The Queen.—Riding in a Royal Carriage.—Horseback-Riding Party.—Native Women Riding.—Church.—Native Pews.—A Quarter of a Dollar. 64

CHAPTER VIII.—FROM HONOLULU TO HILO.

Steamer's Deck.—Hair Decorations.—The Queen and her Suite. —The Queen's Guard.—Singular Accommodations.—Lahaina.—A Breakfast on Shore.—Kind Natives.—Cocoa-nuts.—Lessons in Hawaiian.—The King and his Greeting.—Where Captain Cook was killed.—Such Roads!—Dinner on Shore.—Orange-Trees. —Precipices.—Cascades.—Waipio.—Hilo.—Landing in the Surf.—Spiders. 76

CHAPTER IX.—THE VOLCANO.

Gipsies.—Up Hill and Down.—Lame Horse.—An Accommodating Family.—House Inside and Outside.—A Lowly Table.—Prayers. —Calabashes.—Native Men.—Started again.—A Rain.—Gigantic Ferns.—Volcano House.—A Table again.—The Crater and its Wonders.—A Lake on Fire.—Lava.—Blow Hole.—"There, there," a grand Chorus.—Aa.—Ohelo Berries. 86

CHAPTER X.—A STORY ABOUT KAPIOLANI.

A Christian Princess.—A Heathen God insulted.—The True God worshiped.—Tabu.—A Gallop.—A Dingy Hut changed to a Fairy Bower.—Hard Riding.—Rest.—Departure.—Surf Boards. 97

CHAPTER XI.—KAU AND JOURNEY TO KAAWALOA.

Waiohinu Boarding-School.—Familiar Hymns and Tunes.—Flower Wreaths and Wands.—Preaching to Foreigners.—Saddle-Bags. —Aa.—Pahoihoi.—Candle-Nut.—Rest at Night.—Tapa.—Arrival at Kaawaloa.—Kapiolani's House.—Bonaparte.—Kindness. 106

CHAPTER XII.—KAAWALOA.

City of Refuge.—Lava Falls.—Kaahumanu's Rock.—Great Chief.—Captain Cook.—Monthly Concert.—Cook's Death. —Meager Monuments.—Oranges.—Breadfruit.—Food. —Cockroaches.—Ants. 116

CHAPTER XIII.—KAILUA.

Carriage Broken.—Cocoa-nut Milk.—"Pilikia."—"Maikai." —Prickly Pear.—Thorns.—Century Plant.—Wonder at the Carriage.—Fear of the Horses.—Donation.—Anniversary. —Communion.—Steamer arrived.—Carried by the Natives. —Children.—Arrival at Honoipu.—Ugly-Horse.—White Mule. —Showers.—Welcome. 127

CHAPTER XIV.—KOHALA AND WAIMEA.

Rain.—Large Shrubs.—Fruit.—"Keika Wahine."—"The Promised Land."—Enthusiastic Meeting.—Original Hymns.—Address by Timotao Nalanipo.—Shaking Hands. 137

CHAPTER XV.—MAUI.

Horseback Journey from Waimea to Kowaihae.—A Heathen Temple.—Sacrifices.—Steamer.—A Storm of Sand.—A Deluge.—Gifts.—Singing.—Iao Valley.—Shelling. —Precipices.—A Novel Sketch.—The Needle.—War.—A Race.—Ravages of a Waterspout.—Sail in a Whale-Boat. —Lahaina from the Sea.—Lahainaluna.—Examination. —Generals.—Commencement.—Dinner. 150

CHAPTER XVI.—LAHAINA—KAUAI.

Ride.—Cocoa-nut Grove.—American Consul's House.—Sugar Mill and Making.—Dust.—Communion.—Singing old Tunes. —Exhibition.—Love Tokens.—At Honolulu again.—Calls on the Father and Sister of the King.—"Annie Laurie." —Sea-Sickness.—Arrival at Kauai.—Princeville.—A Beautiful Bouquet.—View.—Journey.—A Fall from a Horse. —Lunch.—A Resting-Place.—A Bluff. 163

CHAPTER XVII.—KAUAI AND OAHU.

Flowers.—A Coach and Four.—Lassos.—Lihue.—Wailua Falls. —Koloa.—Spouting Horn.—Church.—A Large Cavalcade.—An Arid Place.—Waimea.—"Old Jonah."—Sandboats and Forts on the Beach.—Garden.—Koloa again.—A Dinner.—Another Trip in the Annie Laurie.—A Salt Lake.—Ewa.—Lunch at Kahuku. —A pretty Bathing-Place.—Peacocks.—Idols. 174

CHAPTER XVIII.—OAHU.

Native Pastor.—Dinner.—Lassoing.—Falls of Ka Liuwaa. —The Canoe.—Kaneohe.—A Runaway.—The Pali.—Defeated Warriors.—Return to Honolulu.—Missionaries.—General Meeting.—Examination at Oahu College.—Exhibition.—Flags. —President's Levee.—Harmony.—Number of Converts. —Cousins' Meeting. 185

CHAPTER XIX.—HONOLULU AGAIN.

General Meeting.—A Fine Garden.—Mangoes.—Apple-Tree. —Decorations for the Schoolhouse.—Cousins' Annual Meeting.—Laying the Burden down and Taking it up. —Lizards.—Scorpions and Centipedes.—Farewell Party. —Gifts.—A Donation Party.—Diamond Head.—Natives on Horseback.—Rat.—Ordination of Mr. H. H. Parker. —Candy-Pull.—Fourth of July.—An Oration.—A Picnic. —Farewell Address.—"Aloha."—The Islands left behind. 197

CHAPTER XX.—VOYAGE TO SAN FRANCISCO.

Calms.—A Patient Captain.—"All Serene."—Flying Fish. —Porpoises.—Whales.—"Skip Jacks."—Peanuts.—Colored Water.—The Farallone Islands.—Birds, Seals, and Sea Lions.—A Train of Cars.—Golden Gate and Fort Point. —Alcatraces Island.—Arrival in San Francisco. 208

CHAPTER XXI.—CALIFORNIA.

A Drive.—Seals.—Portuguese Men of War.—Little Birds. —Steamer Yo Semite.—Shipping.—St. Paul's Bay.—Suisun Bay.—Benicia.—Monte Diablo.—Sacramento River.—Arrival at Sacramento.—A Long Bridge.—Journey to Folsom.—Willow Springs Mines.—Fair Grounds.—High Prices.—A Ride around Sacramento.—Levees.—Two Floods.—New Capitol.—Warm Weather.—Departure.—A Slough.—Watermelon Seeds. —Oakland.—A Long Ride.—A Fine Orchard.—Nectarines and Apricots.—Sailing on the Golden Age.—Farewell. 217

CHAPTER XXII.—HOMEWARD BOUND.

At Sea again.—A Cozy Room.—A Choir.—Sermons.—Beautiful Evenings.—A Hurricane.—Dangers and Discomforts.—A Crash and Crashes.—"My Father rules the Storm."—A Meeting for Thanksgiving.—Acapulco Harbor.—Arrival at Panama.—Articles for Sale.—Telegraph Posts.—Concrete.—"The Flower of the Holy Ghost."—Matachin.—Iron Bridge.—Sensitive Plant. —Steamer Champion.—West India Islands.—A Privateer.—Gulf Stream.—Lighthouses.—At Anchor.—Our Voyage Ended.—A Hymn.—The Lord's Prayer in English and Hawaiian. 227



THE HAWAIIAN ISLANDS.



I.

From New York to Aspinwall.

"Tell us a story, aunty,—tell us a story," came in pleading tones from a group of children; and they watched my face with eager eyes to see if I looked willing.

"A story, children; what shall it be about?"

"About the places you went to while you were gone, and the people you saw."

"Now, aunty," said Carrie, who was one of the older ones, "we are going to be here a whole month, and if you will tell us a story every day, we shall know all about your journey."

I thought the matter over for a few minutes. "Well, children," said I, "I'll make a bargain with you. If you will promise to get your work done nicely every day by four o'clock, I will tell you a story until tea-time."

"A bargain! a bargain!" shouted the children.

* * * * *

It was winter when we went away, you remember, though there was no snow on the ground. We went on board the steamer Ocean Queen, in New York, on the 12th of January. Uncle George went down with us, and what a crowd there was on the wharf,—men and boys, coachmen and porters! It was some time before our carriage could get inside the wharf-gates, and when I got out, it seemed as if horses' heads were all about me; but seeing Uncle George was not afraid, I took courage, and keeping close behind him, soon left the horses. I found the people were worse than the horses; but after many jostlings and pushings, I got into the saloon, safe and sound, all but a rent in my dress.

Grandma and I stayed there, while grandpa and Uncle George went to look after the baggage. Strangers were all around us, and we couldn't tell who were our fellow-voyagers, and who not. Soon one and another of our friends came to say good-by. It was all very much confused, and we were glad finally when we were actually off.

Then I took a look at the stateroom where we were to spend ten nights. What a little box, almost too small to turn round in!—and our berths had so little space between them that we couldn't sit up at all. We went to bed early, quite disgusted with sea-life to begin with, and were wondering how we could get along for ten days thus cooped up, with hard beds, and not much to eat; for we had had no dinner that day, when—crash! a shock—and the machinery stopped! What could it be? Heads were popped out of staterooms, and "What's the matter?" was in every mouth. We had run into a small schooner, which had imprudently tried to cross our bows. For an hour there was noise overhead,—men running across the deck; and then all was still, only the thump, thump of our engine; so we went to sleep, thanking our Heavenly Father that no worse thing had happened to us.

"Aunty," said Harry, "what became of the poor schooner?"

We gave her one of our boats, and the captain thought he could get her into port; but she leaked badly, and I afterwards heard he had to run her ashore on some beach just out of New York.

Next morning, in my forgetfulness, I attempted to sit up in my berth, and gave my head a great bump on grandma's berth. On the third night out we had a heavy gale, and one of our sails was blown away with a noise like that of a cannon.

"Aunty," said little Alice, "do steamers have sails?"

Yes, we always had a sail on the foremast; it steadies the ship, and if the wind is right helps the vessel. Almost every body was sea-sick during that gale, for it lasted two days. We went scarcely a hundred miles, and were off Savannah when it cleared up.

"Oh, I know where Savannah is," said Harry; "it was in my last geography lesson."

When Sabbath came, it was very rough, so we could not have preaching. We sung a few hymns, but were rather quiet, when the cry, "Porpoises! porpoises!" made us run to the side of the vessel; and sure enough, there was a whole school of them rolling along in great glee. They are light brown fishes, varying in shade, some four feet long, some less. The female and young keep side by side, and leap out of the water at the same time. They jump out of the white crest of one wave into the next, racing along, seeming to try and keep up with the ship. It was very exciting, and the passengers shouted; for, excepting a few birds, they were the first living thing out of the ship we had seen for six days. All the rest of that day we were running so near the Florida coast that we could see the green trees on shore. We could hardly believe it was mid-winter. The water looked shallow, and we grazed the end of a sand-bank, after which they kept the vessel farther from the shore. We saw some great green sea-turtles that day; they were about three feet long. Our wheel turned one over on his back. I wanted to watch him; but we soon left him far, far behind.

We went round by the west of Cuba, to keep out of the way of the pirate Alabama. Monday morning, about nine o'clock, we came in sight of a gunboat. Soon after passing her, boom! went her cannon, and we came to a stand-still. She sent her boat with an officer, who came on board and got newspapers. That gunboat is stationed there to give warning of pirates, I suppose, and she is required to stop every vessel. The final excitement was left for Tuesday morning, when we were near Cape San Antonio, Cuba. While at breakfast, word came that there were two steamers ahead. It was whispered about that the larger was the Alabama; so we all went on deck to get a good look. Though they showed the Union flag, we were rather suspicious of them; and when they both started in pursuit and fired their cannon, our captain steamed in toward the land; for if vessels get within three miles of a neutral shore, no hostile craft can touch them. We came to anchor in plain sight of Cuba's green hills, and waited anxiously for our pursuers, who had fired a second cannon. They both lowered a boat. We feared we should see the rebel rag, but were joyful when our own stars and stripes were unrolled to the breeze. The vessels proved to be the Wachusett, Com. Wilkes's flag-ship, and the gunboat Sonoma, Capt. Stevens. So there ended our fright about pirates. For the next two days we were sailing across the Caribbean Sea, and on Friday, Jan. 23, about eight o'clock in the evening, went up Navy Bay to the wharf at Aspinwall. It was too dark to see the groves of cocoa-nuts on shore; so I had to wait for my view of tropical trees until morning.

There is the tea-bell; so we shall have to pause here until to-morrow.



II.

Isthmus of Darien.

As soon as the clock struck four, Carrie, Alice, Willie, and Harry reminded me of my promise, and having all finished their work, were ready for story Number Two.

"Aunty," said Carrie, "Alice and I have finished our squares of patchwork, and Willie and Harry have weeded that flower-bed for grandpa; so you see we have done our part of the bargain, and now we have come for your part."

I'm all ready for my part, said I.

Before we arrived at Aspinwall, old travelers told us that if we got there before ten at night, we should have to leave the steamer and go to the hotels. We were, therefore, selfishly relieved to find that all the hotels had been burned to the ground about Christmas time. So we stayed on board the steamer that night, and how glad we were to think it was our last night there. We heard that the steamer upon which we were to embark on the other side was a very large one, and about five in the morning, after a comfortless breakfast of poor coffee without milk, and hard bread, we turned our back on the Ocean Queen, without regret. A stout, half-naked negro shouldered our baggage, and we were actually treading the soil of the Isthmus of Darien.

"Did he carry your trunks, aunty?" said Willie.

Oh, no, dear, we had our trunks all weighed the day before. We were only allowed fifty pounds of baggage apiece, and for all over that we had to pay ten cents for every pound. They gave grandpa checks for the trunks; so the man only took our bags and deck chairs. He took what we ourselves couldn't carry.

On the beach near us, was the stranded wreck of the British ship Avon, a large, noble vessel, lying on her side. In a gale some time ago, she dragged her anchors, I believe, and was blown by the wind far up on the sand.

It was quite a picturesque scene at the cars, in the early morning light. We passed through a small grove of cocoa-nuts. I really was disappointed in them; but these were dwarf-trees, and not good samples. The passengers were standing in groups with their bags at their feet, or on the head of some native near by. The cars were before us, and native women passed about with their waiters of fruit and cakes. They were dressed in white or light-colored muslin or calico skirts, flounced, torn, and dirty; a white chemise, with a ruffle round the neck trimmed with lace, and a bandanna handkerchief tied round the head completed their toilet. In a picture it would look very well; as it was, one dreaded too close a contact, they were so dirty. Some of their attitudes were very graceful. The men had on shirts and pantaloons, the former generally worn as a sack. After much scrambling, we were seated in the cars, hot and disgusted.

"Hot, aunty, and in January too?" said Carrie.

If you look on your map, you will find that Aspinwall is not very far from the equator. They have no winter there, and the sun is very powerful.

Soon after we started, all other feelings were lost in intense delight at the luxuriant tropical verdure about us. Aspinwall is on a coral island close to the shore, and is low and unhealthy. The name of the island is Manzanilla. The natives call the town Colon, from Columbus or Christoval Colon, as his name is in Spanish. The railroad was five years in being built, under almost unheard-of difficulties; and any person going over it might learn to appreciate some of them, after seeing the rich, tangled, luxuriant vegetation in the low, wet grounds. How I longed to know the names of the beautiful flowers fringing the road; but no one could tell me. First we passed through a swamp of purple and white azaleas; then one of snowy callas; then near a bank hidden from view by heavy morning-glory vines in bloom, still dripping with dew. We saw a great many specimens of what I was told was the "long palm;" it looked to me like a kind of brake or fern, with drooping branches twenty feet in length. There were trees with hardly a leaf; but each branch and twig crowned with orange-yellow blossoms. Again we would see a tree covered with feathery, purple flowers. Along some parts of the way, was a profusion of "Indian shot," so called, I suppose, because the seeds are black, hard, and round, looking like large shot. Here and there drooped a vine with brilliant scarlet blossoms. Once in a while we would see the deep green of the orange-tree, or the lighter foliage of the lemon, and finally a banana-tree, with its bunch of fruit, gladdened my eyes. There were many trees with parasitic plants growing on them, looking as if ropes were hanging from them. It is said that if one of these groves of ferns on the Isthmus is cut down, in three months the vegetation has grown so rapidly as to look as if no human hand had ever interfered with them. One wanted several pairs of eyes to take in all the beauty of the scene.



There were various way-stations upon the railroad, having neat white houses, with a piazza upon both stories. Before and around some of them are pretty gardens, with bright flowers, conspicuous among them being our fragrant roses, such as rarely bloom with us except in green-houses. We passed many native huts grouped in small villages, with their inhabitants sitting in the doorway or lounging about the premises, the children running round half naked or entirely so. Most of these people are freed Jamaica slaves. They seemed to be a happy but indolent race. Fruits grow about them with such prodigality as to require but little exertion to obtain the necessities of life. Their huts are made of bamboo rods, thatched with palm-leaves.

But there is the tea-bell.



III.

Panama.

"Come, come, aunty," shouted Willie, "the clock has struck four; so put down your sewing, and tell us about Panama. We've finished our work beautifully, grandma says." So I began.

* * * * *

When we reached Panama, about nine o'clock, it was very warm and sultry. The soil is sandy. Though the present city of Panama is not more than two hundred years old, it has an ancient and dilapidated appearance. The climate is such that even the stones decay, and worms destroy the wood. The houses are all tiled and look oddly enough. The tiles resemble the half of an earthen water-pipe, and are of a light brick-color. We had quite a laugh on the wharf at our grotesque appearance, likening ourselves to emigrants; for our bags, chairs, shawls, and umbrellas were all laid in a heap, and grandma and I sat on them, while grandpa went off to make arrangements for going on board the steamer, or spending the day in the city. The natives bowed before us with their baskets of fruit, which they offered for sale.

"What fruit was it, aunty?" asked little Alice.

Mangoes, pineapples, limes, oranges, and bananas. They had also rolls, cakes, and pies. Then some came with the native wine, and with milk and lemonade, which the man said was "nice lomonard!"

We decided to stay in Panama until afternoon, when a small boat would take us off to our noble steamship, the Constitution. We left our baggage at the station, and took the railway omnibus, drawn by mules, which were driven by a negro, up to the "first-class hotel,—the Aspinwall House." He took us a distance of half a mile, perhaps, at the moderate charge of fifty cents apiece! The streets of Panama are very narrow, and the driver had to call out every once in a while to clear the road, so that we might pass. The hotel is built round a court. The parlor is in the third story, and is quite comfortably furnished, while from the walls hang oil paintings, which, with their frames, might in New York be worth two dollars and a half apiece. Two long windows opened out on a balcony, and commanded a view of the hoary tiled roofs of the city. There was a center-table in the room, which interested me much. It had pictures pasted under the varnish, some colored, some not. There was a pair of scissors, a pen, a needle-case, wafers,—all looking just as if you could pick them up. What a nice breakfast we had there! every thing tasted so good on shore.

"Aunty," said Harry, "tell us what you had for breakfast."

Let me see if I can remember. First we had fish and eggs, with fried potatoes and bananas. Then we had beefsteak, coffee, tea, and iced claret, as it isn't safe to drink the water there.

After breakfast, we sallied out to see the sights. We walked across the public square, down to the fortifications, and there gathered some beautiful yellow flowers, which I pressed. We saw plenty of natives in their scant dresses. One little black fellow I was particularly amused with. He had on a little blue shirt, which his mother had tied up in a knot in the middle of his back; and there he was enjoying his mud pies, and keeping his clothes clean too. We walked down on the beach outside the city walls; for Panama is a walled town. Here we picked up shells on the sand. The little crabs were very thick, and scampered away from under our feet to their sandy holes, the opening of which looked as round and even as if made by a cane,—just such as I used to make when I was a little girl, after a hard rain, with the tip of my umbrella. As we wandered over the rocks, for it was low tide, we found an exquisite little natural aquarium, all stocked with its tiny inhabitants. It was a circular rock, with two irregular terraces, and at its top a little basin, deep here and shallow there; its bottom was all covered with little spots of pearly whiteness, looking as if inlaid. The little shell-fish clung lovingly to its side; the crabs, in their borrowed tenements, crept securely about; and the funny little fishes darted through the cool, clear waters. Many a wealthy nobleman would like to have that treasure of nature in his garden; yet perhaps no human eye had ever noted its beauty before.

"Aunty, what do you mean by the borrowed tenements of the crabs?" asked Carrie.

There is one kind of crab that likes to live in a shell; so if they find one empty, they take possession of it; they are called "hermit crabs." We often used to pick up a shell with a crab in it.

At three o'clock we went to the cathedral, which was open at that hour. The front of it is rather imposing; but the doors are roughly boarded up, and do not look as well as our common barn-doors. We went in at a side-door. There are many shrines adorned with tinsel and cotton lace, but neither beautiful nor pleasing. There was a little girl, a child of one of our fellow-passengers, in the cathedral; and knowing that grandpa was a minister, she walked up to him and said, "Do you preach here?" The chief features of interest to me were the pointed towers at either side of the front, which are roofed with pearl shells. Pearls of great beauty are found on various parts of the coast, and there are stores particularly devoted to the sale of them. We visited the ruins of a Jesuit college, also the old church of San Domingo. Some of the arches in the latter are well preserved, and are crested with beautiful shrubs and vines in full bloom. The natives called us "Americanos" as we passed. About four, we took our places again in the omnibus, and in a little while were at the wharf, where we bought a supply of bananas, oranges, and pineapples. Embarking again on the little steam-tug, we enjoyed a pleasant sail across the Bay of Panama, with the city and its crumbling walls behind us. In about half an hour we came in sight of a large fleet of steamers; for it is here the company keep their spare vessels. Among them were the St. Louis, California, Guatemala, and our own beautiful Constitution,—larger and finer than any of the others, with our old voyage companions smiling their greetings over its side. It seemed a long while since we had seen them, and it was quite like getting home to have them about us.

We lay at anchor all night, and the next morning, Jan. 25, at six o'clock, our Pacific voyage commenced. We passed in the bay the mountainous island Toboga, with a pretty little village lying snugly cradled at its base. From this island's cool, clear, springs, the drinking water of Panama, is obtained.

"Don't they have wells in Panama?" inquired Carrie.

Yes; but the water is brackish and warm.

"What is 'brackish,' aunty?" said Alice.

Having a salt taste,—not pure. Our Constitution was very different from the Ocean Queen, it being very clean and sweet. When we went on board, the dinner-table was set in the long saloon, and every thing looked as in our best hotels. We occupied a nice stateroom, having a French bed with curtains, a sofa, a mirror on the wall, and some very convenient shelves. We had, also, good washing arrangements; so that we were well settled for a two weeks' voyage. There were three waiters to each table, while there was but one on the other steamer. The dessert was prettily arranged, on tables at either end of the saloon. All the orders were given by a bell. The waiters went together to the dessert-tables, and each took a dish of pudding, or cake, or fruit and nuts, perhaps. The bell struck, and they moved in procession to their places, when at another signal they placed the dishes upon the table.

Ah! there is our bell, and we must go. Carrie, you may head the procession.



IV.

From Panama to San Francisco.

"Aunty, where are you?" cried little Alice, and then a gentle knock on my door reminded me that it was four o'clock. "We are all ready waiting in the sitting-room, and Fanny Mason is there, too, because she wants to hear our stories. You are willing; an't you, aunty?"

Oh, yes, Alice, any of your friends may come that wish. So I took my little pet's hand, and went down to my waiting group to tell my story.

* * * * *

We had beautiful summer weather, and quite forgot that it was January. On the 29th we passed a distant volcano, and early in the morning saw the smoke at its summit. The name of the volcano is Colenso, and it is in Guatemala. It was first seen in the night, and our men sent up a rocket as a signal, supposing it to be the light of another steamer, but they soon saw their mistake.

The coast is mountainous all the way to San Francisco; we kept it in sight nearly all the time except when crossing the Gulfs of Tehuantepec and California. The sea was almost invariably smooth.

We arrived at Acapulco, in Mexico, Saturday, Jan. 31, at daybreak; having sailed 1,440 miles in six days. As grandpa and grandma were not going on shore, I had not thought of doing so; but quite a party of our acquaintance went, and I was invited to join them. I was glad to go; for I longed to step on Mexican soil.

We had a native boat and four rowers. The sail was a very pleasant one, and we were soon on the low, sandy beach. Part of the town was destroyed by an earthquake two years ago; but the adobe houses are so simply constructed that they can be rebuilt with little difficulty.

"What are adobe houses?" asked Carrie.

Houses built of hardened clay. They take a mold like the sides of a box with the bottom out, and press it full of mud; when turned out, it looks like a great mud brick, and is left for the sun to dry.

We went up to the market-place, where the Mexican women, children, and dogs were all huddled together, with their wares spread out in most tempting array; coral, colored with most brilliant dyes; shells of various kinds, some on long strings like necklaces, and some single and highly polished. Fruits were plenty,—bananas, granadas, oranges, and limes. We had our chocolate and eggs ordered; but just at that moment, boom! went our ship's cannon to recall us, so we had to go back without our breakfast; but we took some beautiful flowers and a few shells. The forts had been bombarded by the French about a month before, but looked as if they were little injured. The harbor is small, but one of the finest on the whole Pacific coast. The native boys swam out to the ship, and would dive for silver coin thrown to them. It was astonishing to see how far down in the water they would go for it, and almost invariably get it. Then they would put it in their mouths, and be ready for another. One boy, the quickest of the lot, must have had a dozen pieces in his mouth at one time.

A shark and a devil-fish came near the ship—

"A devil-fish!" the children all exclaimed; "why, what sort of a fish is that?"

It is very large, having a pointed head with projecting fins of great breadth, triangular and resembling wings, making the fish broader than it is long, even including the tail. The encyclopaedia says one was caught in the Atlantic, off Delaware Bay, in 1823, which was so heavy as to require three pairs of oxen, a horse, and several men to drag it ashore. It weighed about five tons, and measured seventeen and a quarter feet long, and eighteen feet broad; the skin was blackish-brown, and underneath, black and white; its mouth was two feet nine inches wide, and the skull five feet. One was captured in the harbor of Kingston on the island of Jamaica, which had strength enough to drag three or four boats fastened together at the rate of four miles an hour. The mouth of this one was four and a half feet wide, and three feet deep, large enough to contain the body of a man.

The day after we left Acapulco was the Sabbath, and we had service in the saloon in the morning, which made it seem quite like a home Sabbath, and many were delighted to have a "real Sunday." A table was covered with an American flag; this was the pulpit. The Bible was laid on it, and grandpa preached. We sat around on the saloon sofas. The captain could not attend, as we were nearing the town of Manzanilla. Just as the sermon was finished, we stopped before that picturesque village. I believe the town proper is inland. The few houses on the shore looked very neat, being white-washed, making a very pretty contrast with the deep green of the lofty hills beyond.

After two hours' sail from Manzanilla, we passed the wreck of the steamer Golden Gate, which was burned some time since, causing the loss of so many lives. Vessels are stationed there to procure treasure from the wreck, and we received from them more than two hundred thousand dollars to carry to San Francisco.

One of our officers was on the Golden Gate when it was burned, and he told some thrilling stories of the disaster. A great many strong, grown people were drowned in the terrible surf; yet one little baby, only six weeks old, floated safely to the shore. God took care of her, you see. The men carried her by turns, as they walked their weary way over the mountains to Manzanilla, and fed her with scraped potato, a barrel of potatoes having washed ashore.

How many sorrowful feelings were called up by the sight of that one wheel lying on the beach; for that is all that is left of the ill-fated Golden Gate! How many lives were lost in those peaceful waters over which we were sailing so pleasantly! Our officers told us that it was just such a bright, beautiful day; but the surf here is very high, and with our glass we could see it foaming and tossing on the beach. In our hearts many of us thanked God for our present safety, and prayed him to save us from such a fate. Just before we neared the wreck, we passed by some rocks on the coast, looking just like a ruined castle, with beautiful green trees all around them, as if it were a nobleman's garden.

It is not easy to keep the Sabbath properly on one of these ocean steamers; for little distinction is observed in the days by the crew. We did, however, the best we could. It seemed more like the Sabbath in the evening, when a goodly number of us collected together in the saloon, and sung hymns and tunes, just as many of us would have done were we in our loved homes, so far away. That night we commenced crossing the Gulf of California, and all day Monday we saw no land. Almost every evening we walked upon the upper deck, which was a very fine promenade three hundred and seventy feet long.

Tuesday we saw Cape St. Lucas, which you know is the end of the long peninsula of California, and were in sight of the shore all the way after that. I was constantly surprised at the grandeur of this western coast, with its magnificent chains of mountains, rising peak above peak, and fleecy clouds resting on their summits. There was no break in these chains all the way to San Francisco. I heard them called the backbone of America, and they are among the grandest works of the Creator. After passing Cape St. Lucas, we had colder weather.

But I must not forget to tell you of my going around the ship, with the commodore, when he was "inspecting" it. Grandma was not well enough to go, but grandpa and I went. How I wish you could have peeped with me into all the cupboards and utensils, and have seen how neat every thing was,—the dishes were so white, the glasses so clear, and the tins so bright! The commodore rubbed his fingers inside of a kettle, and if they were the least bit soiled, it would have to be done over again. On one shelf was a great pile of loaves of bread. We went into the slaughter-room, to see the butcher's establishment; it was as clean and sweet as a kitchen. The little lamb, three days old, was brought out for my amusement, and doubtless pleased its mamma very much by showing off, and saying "baa," like a dutiful child! What a funny party we were, the portly commodore with your small aunty leaning on his arm, he sliding through narrow doors sideways, pulling me after him; then tall grandpa, and our little thin surgeon following in his train! I asked the head steward to tell me how much he cooked every day for all on board. We had about five hundred passengers, beside officers and crew. He told me fifty gallons of soup, fifty pounds of mutton, ninety pounds of pork, four hundred and seventy-five pounds of beef, sixteen pounds of ham, twenty-four chickens, ten turkeys, eight hundred pounds of potatoes, two barrels of flour, making two hundred and twenty-five loaves of bread, fifty pies, forty-five pounds of butter, five pounds of lard, five pounds of cheese, and ten gallons of milk. Just think what a great boarding-house our steamer was!

On the 7th of February, we entered the "Golden Gate" of California, and about four o'clock were at the wharf at San Francisco.

"The Golden Gate!" said wee Alice, in astonishment, "They don't really have a golden gate; do they?"

We all laughed at the little one's earnestness, and then I told her it was only a narrow entrance to San Francisco Bay, perhaps a mile wide between the headlands.

"Well, what do they call it so for?" said she.

I suppose because a great many who went to California thought they would get a great deal of gold, and as they all went through that narrow entrance, it was called the Golden Gate.

"Supper, supper," here cried grandma. "Don't you hear the bell?" and again it sounded its merry summons to tea.



V.

San Francisco.

"Aunty," said Willie at my elbow, "we are waiting for you. You know we arrived at San Francisco yesterday, and we want to hear about it now." So I went down to my little flock of listeners.

* * * * *

We stayed at the "Lick House" on Montgomery Street,—

"Lick House!" cried Harry. "What a funny name! What made them call it so?"

It was named for a Mr. Lick, who built it. It is a very nice hotel, and we were very glad to be again on land.

It took our friends but a short time to find out we were there; for we received some calls before we had our bonnets off, and they continued to come until bedtime. Beds!—how delightful to get into a real bed again after being so long in berths; for though, on the Constitution, grandpa and grandma had a bed, I had my narrow shelf.

The next day was the Sabbath. We attended Rev. Mr. Lacy's church in the morning, and heard Rev. Mr. Bartlett of Santa Cruz preach. In the afternoon, we went out to the "Mission Dolores," to the installation of Rev. Mr. Beckwith. We were glad to arrive in California in time to see him installed, and it was pleasant for grandpa and Mr. Beckwith to meet again; for the latter was once the President of Oahu College in the Sandwich Islands. All day Monday, friends came to see us, and were so cordial and kind that it did our hearts good.

Tuesday afternoon, thanks to a kind friend, we went to ride. How delightful it was to be in a carriage again, on a good road, with fine horses, after our imprisonment on board ship! Some of the streets are paved with planks, some partially so; others are very sandy, while some are hard and smooth. We rode over the hills southwest of San Francisco, where we got a fine view of the city and parts of the bay. I had expected to find San Francisco a level place; but it is just the reverse; for it is built on several very high hills. They have been slashed and cut into unmercifully, which greatly injures the looks of the older part of the city. We had a fast trot on the beach near the Ocean House. What a surf! White-crested billows came roaring and tumbling in, seeming as if ready to ingulf us. We passed a poor shattered fragment of a recent wreck, now almost imbedded in the sand, and it made me shudder to think of being wrecked on that cruel shore. It was a vessel but a little smaller than the one we were to sail in; and I sent up a silent petition to our heavenly Father to save us from such a calamity. Our good friend often stopped the carriage to pick us wild-flowers, which were beginning to fringe the roadside, and told us that only a few weeks hence these hills would be rainbow-hued with countless blossoms. Roses grow here in the gardens all the year round, and bouquets graced our table while we remained. On our way back, we rode through the "Mission Dolores," the seat of an old Catholic mission, and stopped at the church, an ancient looking adobe building, with a tiled roof like the Panama houses. We peeped in; then walked through the burying-ground adjoining, where bloomed a great variety of flowers, among them some beautiful tea-roses. I wanted very much to pick just one; but I saw a notice as I went in, asking us not to do so; and I thought if every visitor plucked even one rose, there would soon be none left. Late in the evening, a beautiful bouquet was handed me, and beside it was one fair, white, exquisite rosebud, which my kind friend said he brought me because I was so good at the burying-ground. You see how much more enjoyment I had over my beautiful flowers, because I refrained from despoiling the grave.

The next day, February 11, we bade good-by to our friends, and went down to the wharf. Some of our fellow-voyagers still continued with us, going on to China, after leaving us at the Sandwich Islands. We went off in a boat to our clipper ship Archer, and were hoisted over the vessel's side in a chair, with the Union Jack wrapped round us.

"What's the Union Jack?" asked Willie.

It is a blue flag with white stars. How strange it seemed!—the little boat below me, and the black ship's side near, while I went up, up, up, swung over the rail, and was let down on deck, landing in a group of my fellow-passengers. That was the way they all came. The wind blew hard, and we dragged our anchor; so the vessel "dropped down," as the sailors said, to the lower part of the city, near Meig's wharf. Here we remained two days, while a storm raged outside the Golden Gate.

Friday, February 13th, we started again, and just after the pilot left us, we were becalmed on the bar, just opposite the terrible breakers I had seen while riding. Here we anchored. The sea was rough and disagreeable, and our captain longed for a stiff breeze to take us out; for it was not a very safe place to be in. Early in the night, we were glad to hear the chain-cable taken on board, and to know that we were actually on our voyage after so many delays.

"Aunty," said Carrie, "I have frequently read of ships 'crossing the bar;' what does it mean?"

There is often a place at the mouth of a river, or at the entrance of a harbor or bay, where the sand is washed up in a sort of bank, making the water shallow just there, so that large ships have to wait until high tide, or when the water is deepest over those sand-banks or bars, to come in.

There were seventeen passengers on board; but we were not all of us on deck together for six days, because the sea was so very rough in consequence of the storm, by which we had been detained in San Francisco Bay. On the 19th of February, we got into the trade-winds, which gave us a steady breeze in the right direction, and for two days we had twenty-eight sails set most of the time. I longed to be where I could get a good view of the ship with so many sails out; for I thought she must look finely.

We had a Chinese steward on board—

"What does a steward do on a ship?" interrupted Harry.

He takes charge of the table and provisions, and often acts as cook. He had a hard time in securing the dishes; for notwithstanding the racks, the vessel rolled so that knives and forks slipped off as if they had wings. Racks are narrow strips, an inch or two high, upon each edge of the table, and two in the middle, with about a foot's distance between them. These keep the dishes in place when it is rough. It really did seem as if the worst rolls came while we were at meals; I suppose we noticed them more then. Sometimes there was a general slide, and the passengers would seize a tea-cup with one hand, or a vegetable-dish, or a chicken, while all held on by the table with the other.

Thursday night, the 26th of February, found us off a headland on the island of Oahu, and there we spent our first quiet night since leaving San Francisco. There was a buoy near us, marking the channel. It looked like a square plank, and was anchored with a bell upon it, which, as the waves rolled it back and forth, tolled with a mournful sound.

But there's a bell that doesn't sound mournful. It says, "Come to tea!"



VI.

Honolulu.

The clock had hardly finished striking four, when I heard Harry coming up-stairs two at a time, and "Hurra for the Sandwich Islands!" sounded at my door. So I laid down my work, and was soon in my usual seat.

* * * * *

I had been told by some persons from the islands that I must not expect to find every where a green and tropical verdure; for much of the country was barren, unfruitful lava. I was up on deck bright and early, to see this far-off part of the world. There was "Diamond Head" before me, an extinct volcanic mountain, of a sort of reddish dust-color, with its top fallen in, and without a tree or spear of grass. Ah! I thought, with a sigh, if all the islands are like this, it is well to warn people not to expect too much. Soon we moved our position, and sailed toward the port of Honolulu. Then we neared the land, and the pretty little village of Waikiki, with its thatched cottages snugly reposing in a tall cocoa-nut grove; then the green trees of Honolulu, and the extinct crater of the "Punchbowl," its summit fallen in too. But a rent in its side showed us that it was bright and green within, forming a huge meadow with its ragged sides. All these opened before us, in delightful contrast to the desolated crater first seen.

We passed "Telegraph Hill," and soon, in answer to a signal, our flags were hoisted, and it was known in Honolulu, that the clipper ship Archer, from San Francisco, was outside with a mail; and in less than an hour the postmaster's boat was alongside. Mr. Whitney, the editor of the "Pacific Advertiser," came, also, in his boat to get news and papers. The captain gave the passengers leave to go on shore, and stay till three o'clock, and most of them by the courtesy of Mr. Whitney went in his boat. But the captain claimed two good missionary ladies, who were on their way to Japan, and ourselves as his party; so we waited until he was ready; then we took our seats in the chair, wrapped again in the Union Jack, and were hoisted over into the boat. Just as this pushed off, and we were looking up to the vessel's side, over which were leaning the smiling, kind-hearted sailors, the captain called out, "Boys, can't you give three cheers for the doctor?" Off came every cap, and three rousing hurras filled the air, bringing tears to our eyes, through which we took our last look at the beautiful ship Archer. Then we turned with curiosity to see these islands, so new and strange. I was in quite a puzzle to know how we were going through the surf without upsetting our boat, but there was a break in the coral reef which afforded us a safe entrance. On the wharf were a good many people watching our approach, and we recognized the familiar faces of some missionaries together with those of our fellow-passengers who had landed before us. Many a hearty hand-grasp was given us as we jumped upon the wharf, the passengers saying "Good-by," and our missionary friends giving their warm welcomes to the islands.

After thanking our good captain for his kindness to us, we rode to Rev. Mr. Clark's where our home was to be for a time. We were now actually at the end of our long voyage; and we thanked our heavenly Father for preserving us through dangers seen and unseen. The house itself looked hospitable,—a two-story white building, with a double piazza, all covered by a vine resembling the grape, its bunches of brown seeds making the deception more complete. The doors and windows were all open. I was shown up to a quiet room with white curtains and bed-draperies, from which an open door led out upon the upper piazza and its green festoons of vine. What a relief to eyes that had so long gazed only on the boundless sea!

The missionaries had heard of the arrival of grandpa and grandma, and soon we were told there were callers below; so down we went. What a scene! enough to repay us for all our long journey. There were many whom we had known at our own house, but whom we never dreamed of seeing in their missionary home. Heart met heart then; some were so happy that they cried, and tears were in our own eyes too. Thirty-seven called that day, and we were very weary when night dropped her curtain. Saturday was the same,—callers all day.

The children of missionaries on these islands have formed an association among themselves which they call the "Cousin's Society." There was to be a meeting of this society on Saturday night at Oahu College, Punahou; so we all went, starting about dark. After driving up a winding carriage-road, there burst suddenly upon us a fairy scene. The principal building was low, with trees and vines about it, and it seemed one blaze of light. The rooms were decorated with exquisite flowers and ferns, and the young ladies and gentlemen were in their gala dresses. Forty "Cousins" were present that night. Grandpa made an address to them, after President Mills had welcomed us. They edit a paper in their society called the "Maile Wreath." Maile [My-le] is a beautiful vine that grows on the islands, and is often used for wreaths. We had some fine music that evening; for many of the "Cousins" sing and play beautifully. After we had been home awhile, about a dozen of these, on their return, stopped and serenaded us.

The next day was the Sabbath,—our first Sabbath in what used to be a heathen land. The church-bells rung just as sweetly as in our beloved America, and the same stillness reigned throughout the town. It was like a home Sabbath. What a change in forty-three years! We went to the mission-church in the morning. It is a large stone edifice of block coral, one hundred and forty-four feet long and seventy-eight wide, and was one of the first objects we saw after passing Diamond Head. It was commenced in 1838, and was five years in building, at a cost of about thirty thousand dollars. Just think of people, who, only twenty-five years before, were in the depths of heathen darkness, building such a church, and by voluntary contributions too! They had a public meeting, and the king subscribed three thousand dollars, and others gave their pledges until the sum reached six thousand dollars. We should think that doing very well in one of our own enlightened Christian assemblies. Notwithstanding their poverty, they subscribed willingly. We, with all our conveniences for building, can hardly realize the labor bestowed on that church. The timber had to be cut in the mountain forests, and dragged by hand down to the coast. The stone was dug out of the coral reefs, and a quantity of coral had to be gathered and burned for lime. All this the people did willingly, and without pay, and the carpenters and masons gave their work freely. It was done unto the Lord.

In that church, which will doubtless stand for ages, we met a large body of natives. Grandpa made a speech to them which Rev. Mr. Clark interpreted. The church was very full. The natives are fond of bright colors, and dress in red and yellow a great deal. The women's dresses are made just like yoke night-gowns, falling to the feet without being confined at the waist at all. The men often wear their shirts outside of their pantaloons like a sack, and sometimes a coat is put on above that, making the effect rather ludicrous. Bonnets the women wear of all kinds, but principally small ones of very old styles. These were perched on the very top of the head, and were sometimes trimmed with ribbons of five or six colors. In the afternoon we went to church again. The preacher was a blind native, Pohaku, and he preached so easily, naming the hymn and repeating it just as if he was reading it, that one would never imagine he was blind.

We shook hands with four or five hundred natives that day, saying "aloha," which means "love to you," "good-will," and is their common salutation. They crowded around us, and sometimes two would get hold of my hand at once. A hand would come over a shoulder, another under an elbow, and round unheard-of corners, all expressing joy and friendship.

But we must hear the rest of Honolulu to-morrow.



VII.

Honolulu continued.

The first great event of the week was a dinner-party at Mr. Wyllie's, the minister of foreign affairs. He is a Scotchman, and wore his official badges: a broad blue band crossing his vest, with the royal coat of arms fastening it together on the hip just below the waist of his dress-coat; also a star on his breast, and two long streamers of crape hanging from his left arm in memory of the young Prince of Hawaii who died last year.

At either end of the dining-hall hung three banners from a standard,—his Scottish manorial flags, I presume; they gave a showy look to the room. On the center of the table was a magnificent standard of silver with a lovely bouquet of flowers. When the dessert was brought in, this was replaced by a branching standard filled with fruit, more elegant still. After the dessert, came a rich and chaste drinking-bowl of silver lined with gold, from which each was desired to sip a little wine to the health of Lady Franklin, who had once been his guest, and who presented him the cup.

In the evening, about a dozen young people took a moonlight walk up Punchbowl, the extinct volcano just back of Honolulu. It is apparently a round cone, about five or six hundred feet high. The side we ascended was steep, ragged, and rocky; but the view of Honolulu from that elevation is very fine. The taro patches were of a deep green, the coral reefs in the harbor snowy white. The town with its thatched houses lay quiet beneath us, while old Diamond Head loomed up in solitary and barren grandeur in the distance. We had some fine singing from members of the party, and the air was so clear and the night so still that it was heard at a long distance.

"Taro patches, aunty? What are they?"

Taro is a vegetable somewhat resembling the calla-lily, the roots of which are good for food.

There are two kinds of it,—wet and dry. The wet is grown under water. Square beds are made, two or more feet deep, in which the taro is planted; then the water is let in at one end, and flows out of the other, thus keeping running water upon the bed all the time. It requires about a year for the plant to get its growth. The natives bake the root in their stone ovens, which are large holes in the ground. They place at the bottom of the oven a quantity of wood and over it a heap of stones, which are heated thoroughly by the burning wood; then the pig, chicken, potatoes, or whatever else they wish to cook, are laid on the stones, leaves being wrapped around them to keep them clean, a little water is thrown on, and the whole is covered with earth. The water comes gradually in contact with the stones, and is converted into steam, which, with the heat of the stones, in a few hours cooks the food.

After the taro is baked, they peel it with a shell, and pound it with a stone pestle in wooden trays, mixing with it water; then they set it away to ferment. When ready for use, it has a sort of lavender color, and is acid. They call it poi; it tastes like yeast or sour flour paste, and is eaten with coarse salt. The natives eat with it raw fish. This is the favorite Hawaiian dish.

"Raw fish, aunty?" said Carrie.

Yes, raw fish; they say raw fish tastes much better than cooked; but I could not believe it. Yet we eat raw oysters; perhaps that is no worse. Taro-tops are very good greens. The natives usually sit round a large calabash, and dip one, two, or three fingers, according to the consistency of the poi; then by a peculiar movement they take it from the calabash, and convey it to the mouth. That is their favorite mode of eating, and they say it does not taste so well when eaten with a spoon.

Next morning, some native women called on us. There were about twenty of them. They were cordial and kind, and their "aloha" was very hearty as we shook hands with each. Some were fine-looking, tall and portly. A few could talk English a little. They welcomed grandpa, making a short speech in Hawaiian, and presented us with some fowls, onions, cabbages, potatoes, eggs, squashes, and taro. Grandpa thanked them, and spoke of the interest he and Christians in America had always felt in them. Mr. Clark was interpreter, and their faces lighted up with evident joy.

The following day we called on Prince William Lunalilo, and his father Kanaina. Prince William is one of the highest chiefs in the kingdom, the rank here being determined by the mother. In the reception-room was a beautiful table, inlaid with specimens of native woods. The furniture was covered with red plush. On the walls were oil paintings of the prince and his father and mother, taken about fifteen years ago.

Prince William took us to the royal cemetery, a small square stone building in the spacious yard. In the center of the one room on a table, was a crimson velvet cushion trimmed with gold fringe, on which lay the Hawaiian crown. Unfortunately, I did not notice it particularly. On either side were enormous coffins, that of Kamehameha II. being the handsomest, and covered with a pall of green brocaded silk; others were covered also with silk palls, or draped in black. Some of the coffins were long and large, the high chiefs having been, as a general thing, tall and stout. One could not help thinking that here was the end of earthly grandeur; the monarch and his lowest subject must alike die.

We went to a prayer-meeting at Oahu College, Punahou, on Wednesday night. It was a pleasant thing to meet with twenty or thirty missionary children for prayer and praise.

Thursday morning we listened to some very creditable recitations, and examined some beautiful drawings by the young ladies and gentlemen, and after lunch heard compositions, and saw the ladies practice calisthenics; all of which would have done honor to one of our home institutions. In the afternoon, we drove back to Honolulu, and attended a sewing-circle at the house of one of the foreign residents. It really seemed like one of our home circles, the profusion of exquisite flowers and the absence of our cold March weather only dispelling the illusion. We reveled in the lovely roses, our green-house favorites blooming here with such rank luxuriance. I saw here for the first time in my life a green rose.

"Green rose?" asked little Alice. "I never heard of such a thing."

Yes, a veritable green rose of just the same shape as the common rose, only a deep genuine green. It had a very odd look. Many of our green-house plants grow to be extremely large here, as there is no chilling wind or snow to nip their growth.

That night our first letters came, two months after we left home. What joy to hear from the dear ones, even though the letters were written only a fortnight after our departure. It takes six weeks for letters to go from New York to Honolulu.

Friday morning, her majesty the queen gave us a private reception; the king was out of town. We were notified, the day before, that the queen would be pleased to see us informally, and would send her carriage for us. So at eleven o'clock a barouche was before the door, drawn by a span of dark horses. A coachman and footman in a livery of green and gold completed the establishment. When we arrived at the palace gates, the guard opened them wide for us, and we passed on to the rear of the palace where was the queen's own suite of rooms. On the steps we were met by the minister of foreign affairs, who escorted us to a reception-room, and a few minutes later to the drawing-room. There we were met by the queen in a ladylike manner, she taking our hand, and expressing pleasure at meeting us. She was in deep mourning for the prince, her only son, who died last year. Her dress was black, trimmed half-way up the skirt with a heavy fold of crape, headed by a box-plaiting of the same. We here met the Princess Victoria, a sister of the king. The queen gave to each of us a lithograph likeness of the late King Kamehameha III. The chancellor of the kingdom, Chief Justice Allen and his lady were present. We returned home in the queen's carriage.

In the afternoon, we had a very pleasant dinner-party at the chief justice's. In the evening, I accepted an invitation to ride with a large party of young people, all on horseback; there were seventeen couples, composed entirely of foreigners, more than half of whom belonged to mission families. You would be amused to see the native women ride like the men, with a strip of bright calico wound round their waist and limbs, falling off like a skirt on each side; the color is usually red, or red and yellow, and they look decidedly gay, sitting so erect in the saddle, and riding at full gallop.

On Sabbath morning we attended at Mr. Smith's church, a large square hall, with a thatched roof. We sat in a wealthy native lady's pew. It was painted a brilliant scarlet, and the cushion was covered with a striped magenta-and-yellow calico. The one in front of us was painted an intense green. Grandpa made an address during service, and afterward, to the children of the Sabbath-school. Every seat was full, and the people very attentive. There was an old native man, with only one arm, who acted the part of sexton, and sometimes waked people up. I fancy there would be fewer sleepers in American churches, if there was anybody to perform a similar office. We shook hands with a great many natives after service. They are very fond of this ceremony, and we were glad to give them that expression of our good-will. Three of them, as they shook hands, left a quarter of a dollar each in mine. I could not return them, for that would give offense, and as I was unwilling to keep them, I put them into the missionary-box.

To-morrow we will leave Honolulu.



VIII.

From Honolulu to Hilo.

"Come, aunty," said Willie, "we are all ready for our journey." So I began.

* * * * *

We rode down to the steamer Kilauea about four o'clock Monday afternoon. A great crowd was on the wharf; among them many of our good friends to see us off. Indeed, we could not feel that we were strangers in a strange land. The sight of the steamer was a novel one; the deck was covered with men, women, children, and dogs, with mats, calabashes, etc. It is quite a fashion here to trim the hair with flowers, and to wear them strung about the neck. Many of these people were so decorated, and it made quite a lively scene, with their gay calico dresses. The women generally have their hair divided into two long braids behind; these they bring up on the top of the head with a round comb, and slip the flowers in about the comb.

The queen and her suite came on board last. She was going to join the king at their country-seat at Kailua, on Hawaii. A salute of twenty-one guns was fired by Her Majesty's guard, who then formed in a line on the wharf and gave three cheers. The royal company preferred to sleep on deck, so that nearly all who occupied the saloon were foreigners.

To us Americans, it seemed a strange thing to have both gentlemen and ladies occupy the same saloon at night, and it was rather embarrassing to mount into an upper berth with half a dozen gentlemen looking on. But we soon became accustomed to it, and learned not to be alarmed at finding a Chinaman asleep on the transom below.

"What is a transom, aunty?" asked Harry.

A sort of cushioned bench, running along both sides of the saloon just outside the under berths.

At half-past four in the morning, we reached Lahaina, Maui. The steamer stopped here some hours; so Dr. Baldwin came off for us, and took us to his house to breakfast. Many friends, new and old, called, and some beautiful flowers were sent from Lahainaluna, about two miles distant, where there is a seminary for native young men. After breakfast, a large company of natives escorted us to the shore, carrying our shawls and bags, seeming eager to do something for our comfort. I wanted to take a photograph of grandpa, as he stood surrounded by natives, he looked so much the picture of happy contentment.

On the steamer we tried our first cocoa-nuts. They are very different from those we get at home, the meat not being half so thick, and quite soft. There is more than as much again liquid, and it is sweeter, and colorless like water.

A few hours' sail brought us to Kalepolepo. Rev. Mr. Alexander had ridden over from Wailuku, ten miles distant, and came on board, and stayed with us some hours while the steamer took on board a supply of wood. It was good to see his beaming face, and receive his cordial welcome. He gave me a lesson in Hawaiian.

"What was it, aunty?" asked Willie.

One sentence was, "He olu olu anei oe?" Are you well? You would say perhaps, "Aole au i ike." I don't understand.

"How funny!" said little Alice.

The next morning, just before we reached Kailua, we discovered the king's barge, and in a few minutes he himself came on board with some of his attendants. The meeting between himself and his queen was affecting; she, not having been to their country-seat since the death of the young prince, was quite overcome. His Majesty was dressed in a light mixed suit, with drab buskins buttoned to the knee, white boots, and a drab felt hat, with about two inches of crape on it. His buskins, setting off his fine form, gave him a very noble appearance. Indeed, he seemed to feel himself every inch a king. After the queen had become somewhat composed, he came to where we sat and, with a hearty shake of the hand, welcomed us to his country. He spoke of his visit to America, some years ago, and conversed very agreeably for some little time. At leaving us, both he and the queen again shook hands, with the same pleasant manner.

At noon we arrived in Kealakekua Bay, on the west side of Hawaii, where Captain Cook was killed. Rev. Mr. Paris was on the beach, with horses to take us to his house, about two miles distant. As the steamer was to remain till night, we went. Our landing was almost on the very spot where Cook was killed. Grandma and I donned our riding-skirts, mounted our horses and started on our ride. Such hills and roads, so dusty and steep, never before entered my imagination! It was the first time grandma had been on a horse for forty years. Sometimes we were a little afraid; but as our horses were not, we gathered courage. At times a precipice rose above us three or four hundred feet on one side, and on the other descended perhaps a hundred feet. The rock was of lava, much broken, sometimes looking like the waves of the sea, or like a stream rolling over the precipice. A portion of the road was cut out of the side of the rock. Mrs. Paris's cordial greeting repaid us for our hot and dusty ride. Here, for the first time, I saw orange-trees in full bloom. They were large and elegant trees, with blossoms and green and ripe fruit growing at the same time. How we enjoyed the fruit, luscious and juicy, and so refreshing after our ride! The arbutulum grows here like a large tree, and blossoms profusely. In the garden we saw young pine-apples, green mangoes, and Chinese oranges,—a perfect orange in miniature, but acid as a lemon.

Toward sunset, we returned to the ship. Darkness covered us before reaching the shore; but our sure-footed horses took us down without a mishap. At the head of the bay rises a pali, or precipice, six or seven hundred feet high, and it is said to go down perpendicularly into the water perhaps as much more.



On Thursday, we sailed all day along grand precipices rising from the ocean, some of them seven hundred or a thousand feet high, with waterfalls leaping the whole distance, or broken into smaller cascades. Sometimes the streams seemed like a silver ribbon, bordered with green moss; these steeps being generally covered with verdure. Here and there was a deep gorge or gulch, as they are there called. The first and only valley of importance we saw was Waipio, whose sides rose exceedingly grand and beautiful, with zigzag mule-paths up the slopes. Far in the distance, amid its shadows, fell a ribbon-like cascade, said to be two thousand four hundred feet high; behind it lay mountains with their summits resting in the clouds. A village with its pretty church nestled in a grove of cocoa-nuts on the beach. After this the precipices grew lower and lower, until finally the scene changed to undulating hills, and a rain storm notified us that we were approaching Hilo. We reached that place about ten o'clock at night, and landed through the surf; that is, the little boat stopped about fifty feet from the shore, and a man waded out and took grandma in his arms; but there being a little delay in getting ashore, the wave rolled in upon her and gave her quite a wetting. When the man came back, and said, "Come, come," I started immediately. The surf roared in the darkness, and I was afraid, but was very soon set down safely on the shore. Dr. Wetmore met us on the beach, and escorted us in the rain to Mrs. Coan's house. Mr. Coan was away upon a tour; but they sent a messenger after him, and he returned home on Saturday.

Hilo is celebrated for its heavy rains, and I should think also for its gigantic spiders. I was afraid of them, though it is said they are harmless unless molested.

Sabbath we passed in the usual manner. Grandpa addressed the native congregation in the morning, and told them of his visit to the Holy Land. They seemed delighted to see one who had looked upon Jerusalem, and walked by the shores of Gennesaret.

There is the supper-bell; so we must wait until to-morrow for another story.



IX.

The Volcano.

"Now, aunty, what are we to see to-day, and where are we to go?" asked Willie, as we assembled in the sitting-room.

We'll go to the volcano to-day, Willie, I answered.

* * * * *

Tuesday morning, we started on our first real horseback journey. The party numbered seven,—three elderly people and four younger ones. Two of our friends escorted us a few miles on our way, and then, as it began to rain, they turned back. I could think of nothing but a party of gipsies, as we rode out of Mr. Coan's yard. You would have laughed to see our fitting out. Grandpa had on rubber overalls, a long rubber coat, and a drab felt hat tied upon his head. I doubt if you would have known him. Grandma wore a dark riding-skirt, an oil-cloth cape over her shoulders, and a felt hat, decidedly slouchy, trimmed with green ribbon. I had on an old drab skirt, my water-proof cloak, and a venerable straw hat trimmed with green, with a blue barege veil falling from its brim. The rest were dressed in similar style. We rode in single file, and the road was so bad, if road it could be called, that we advanced barely two miles an hour. Every few minutes we had to go up or down some steep place, or through mud nearly a foot deep. Swamps and streams alternated with our short hills. At length we came to a wood of tropical luxuriance, where the road was just a mule-path, the branches often meeting before our faces, so that we had to raise our hands to part them. It rained as it always does here. While we young people were venturing on a short canter, my saddle turned completely, and I landed on my feet in an oozy place, fortunately unhurt. A few miles short of the half-way house,—miles are not measured by feelings there,—my horse gave out. For some time he had walked lame in all his feet, and at last refused to go at all. One of the young gentlemen lent me his horse, and led mine. We reached the half-way house about five o'clock, wet through. This was a native house, the occupants of which at once turned out, bag and baggage, the latter consisting, however, of only a few calabashes and pillows, and removed into a smaller hut. We found our house neatly laid with mats, and looking comparatively inviting. The firebrands had been carried out, leaving only the coals in the center of the floor, surrounded by stones to protect the matting. The house was of thatched sides and altogether looked very much like the native houses we saw on the Isthmus.

We made a temporary curtain of a blanket, put on dry clothes, hanging our wet ones up to dry; then laid a table-cloth on the matting, and from buckets and calabashes brought out our dinner. Our service was of tin; but we made a hearty meal, sitting Turk fashion on the mat. After our dinner and tea together, the natives came in, and we had prayers. Mr. Coan read a few verses in English and then in the native language, which was followed by two prayers, one in English, the other in Hawaiian, by the head of the family. We then lay down to sleep; but cockroaches, fleas, and a strong cup of tea drove slumber from our eyelids, and there was more sighing than sleep. The men who brought our calabashes walked or dog-trotted it all the way barefooted, and got on faster than we did. The calabashes are fastened one at each end of a pole four or five feet long, and the bearers don't seem to mind the weight, balancing them easily on their shoulders and carrying them safely. We never missed the smallest article, and nothing was injured by jarring.

We mounted our horses the next morning with good courage, though it was dubious weather, and we had a long ride before us. After a while, we young folks headed the procession and cantered when we could, which was seldom, as a great deal of the way was like riding in the bed of a brook. It had rained so much that a puddle of water was met every few feet. Part of our way was through a beautiful growth of gigantic ferns, mingled with other trees. The ferns were of a beautiful species, growing twenty or more feet high, and crowned with waving feathery branches. Other trees had their bark almost hidden by velvety moss or tiny ferns.

We arrived at the volcano house wet and tired, about three o'clock, but were much comforted by the cleanly appearance of the house, so nicely matted were the floors, with a raised place for sleeping. Outside, under a roof like a veranda, was a blazing fire, and it was needed for drying our clothes, and sending warmth through our chilled limbs.

We ladies retired behind our curtain, and soon appeared in complete Bloomer costume. We set our table in more civilized style, having a rough board whereon to lay our cloth, while benches saved the necessity of our sitting again in Turk fashion. We rested better than the previous night, rousing ourselves once in a while from our lowly matted couch to gaze through the mist at the light from the crater, which looked like an enormous fire.

About nine the next morning, we took our winding way to the edge of the bluff, commanding a fine view of the crater; and there it lay before us, a huge, blackened, fire-desolated gulf! Steam issued from fissures in various parts, while a dense rolling volume marked the place of the really burning lake: We ladies, in our Bloomer dresses,—for it isn't safe to wear long skirts,—started down the precipice. At some of the steep places, our gentlemen tied ropes to the shrubs, and, with jumping and careful walking, we were soon down upon the lava floor.

"How did it feel to walk on the lava, aunty?" said Willie.

It seemed like walking on a snow-crust. Once in a while a foot would sink through, and this at first alarmed us; but we soon got used to it. There were many deep fissures in the lava, from some of which issued steam; these we used to jump over.

"How wide were they?" asked Harry.



One or two feet wide; and no one knows how deep. Mr. Coan seemed to think that forty feet below us might be liquid lava. The lava had flowed in countless shapes and ways. Sometimes it had hardened in circles, or parts of a circle, or it was all crumbled and broken. This last they call a-a [ah-ah]. Often a piece of the thin crust cracked under our footsteps, and turning it over, there would be upon the under surface all the colors of the rainbow.

After a walk of two and a half miles, we came to what is called the "blow hole," where steam rushes out with great force and a loud report, like many factory pipes. It seemed as if some angry goddess dwelt below, whom we had insulted by coming into her domains, and that she was belching out her fierce anger, and vowing vengeance.

But the final wonder was when the fiery gulf came into view. It must have been half a mile square, and was about fifty feet below the level of where we stood. It was boiling up all over its lead-colored surface. Toward the center, it would blacken over, and the blacker it grew, the more intently we watched, until finally it rose in a huge dome thousands of tons in weight, red and fiery, and fell as suddenly. It was so hot, that we had to cover our faces or turn away. There were several red-hot fountains in various parts of the lake, throwing up jets of lava. One was near a shallow cave, from the edges of which, the lava hung in beautiful flame-colored stalactites.

"What are stalactites?" asked little Alice.

An icicle is a stalactite of frozen water; these were of lava, shaped just like large icicles.

All the while, the lake was boiling up in some places, and wrinkling and folding over at the edges. It was a terrible and exciting sight. One of the party would shout, "There, there, the boiler is going to throw up now!" and as it rose into the air, a grand chorus of "There" would announce the end of that discharge. It is impossible to describe to you the grandeur of the scene. It is one of God's most wonderful works. We felt weak and powerless before it.

We took our lunch on the shore of this fiery lake, and afterwards spent an hour in gathering specimens of the different kinds of lava.

Not far from the lake is a peak of lava which is called the "Gothic Cathedral" from its shape. Some of the party passed by a block looking like a lion. There were huge fields of "a-a" where the lava was thrown up into rough heaps, as if some one had tried to knead up blocks a foot square, and given it up as a bad job. We walked nearly six miles in the crater, going and coming, which will give you an idea of its size. It is nine miles in circumference. Our young gentlemen we left behind, as they had discovered a new cave where they could see many valuable specimens. When we reached the house, we were wet and tired; for it rained while we were in the crater, and we had to change our clothes. We ladies saw the yellow sulphur beds in the distance, but were too weary to visit them.

During our absence, the native men had gathered a quantity of ohelo berries, resembling cranberries, but tasting like blueberries, not so sweet perhaps, but like them seedless; they were very nice with sugar, so we added them to our bill of fare. Remind me of those berries to-morrow, and I'll tell you a story about them.

Now for supper.



X.

A Story about Kapiolani.

As I entered the sitting-room, I was greeted by a chorus of voices saying, "Aunty, the berries, you know!" So I began.

* * * * *

A good while ago, when the missionaries first went to the Hawaiian Islands, a princess lived there named Kapiolani, the daughter of Keawemauhili. She was a portly person, as most in high rank were, having an engaging countenance, a keen black eye, and black hair put up by a comb. She dressed in a civilized fashion, and used chairs and tables. Her husband's name was Naihe. In the year 1825, only five years after the mission was commenced, Kapiolani was living at Kaawaloa. Many of her countrymen still supposed that the volcano was the abode of a powerful goddess, whose name was Pele. They were very superstitious, and reverenced and feared to anger this goddess.

Kapiolani had become a Christian, and felt sorry for her poor people who were still in the darkness of paganism, and determined to break the spell that bound them. So she announced her intention to visit the crater of Kilauea, and call upon the goddess to do her worst. Her husband and many others endeavored to dissuade her, but she was not to be moved from her purpose. She traveled, mostly on foot, over a rough and desolate road, a distance of about a hundred miles.

As she drew near the volcano, she was met by one who claimed to be a prophetess of Pele, and threatened her with the displeasure of the goddess, should she come into her domains on this hostile errand. She was told that she would certainly perish if she went to the crater. Kapiolani disregarded the impostor, and went on. Those ohelo berries which I spoke of in my last story were sacred to Pele, and no one dared to eat them unless they had first offered some to the goddess. But Kapiolani gathered and ate them. "She and her company of about eighty," said Mr. Bingham, "accompanied by a missionary, descended from the rim of the crater to the black ledge. There, in full view of the terrific panorama before them, she threw in the berries, and calmly addressed the company thus: 'Jehovah is my God. He kindled these fires. I fear not Pele. If I perish by the anger of Pele, then you may fear the power of Pele; but if I trust in Jehovah, and he shall save me from the wrath of Pele when I break through her tabus, then you must fear and serve the Lord Jehovah. All the gods of Hawaii are vain. Great is the goodness of Jehovah in sending missionaries to turn us from these vanities to the living God and the way of righteousness!'" Then amid the horrid belching and bellowing of the crater, they sung a hymn of praise, and prayed to the God of heaven and earth.

Now wasn't it a grand, a noble thing for this woman, who had been educated in the grossest idolatry, who had only heard of the true God within a very few years, thus to come out and defy her nation's deity, this Pele? Why, even we, brought up in the light and power of the gospel, could not wonder that those benighted savages feared and worshiped. We silently thanked God in our hearts, that we knew him as our Creator and the Maker of this wonderful volcano, instead of a wicked, revengeful heathen god.

"You spoke of Pele's tabus; what is a tabu, aunty?" said Carrie.

Anything forbidden by their law or customs was called "tabu."

Now we will go back to our journey. The day after we descended the crater, we started for the half-way house on our return. It was a dreary, rainy morning, but cleared up soon, though no sun was visible. The roads were dryer, and we young people cantered off, leaving the more staid portion of the party behind; and reached our resting-place two hours or more before the others, and before our native men too. We were hungry, but our calabashes of food were far behind us, so we fell to decorating the house, in order to occupy our time. It was a simple thatched hut, with no windows and only one door. We built an arch over the doorway of two gigantic ferns, with a bouquet of red roses in the center, and made thence a continuous wreath of ferns and red leaves to the end of the house, and down to the ground each side. The bright red leaves were brought us by the little kanaka [native] children. Inside, opposite the door, we made another arch, and twined a wreath around the center pole supporting the roof. Our native men, as they entered, exclaimed "nani," handsome, or "maikai," good. And Mr. Coan's face, as he came up the hill, smiled approval. It really had entirely transformed the dingy hut into quite a fairy bower. All night, fleas and cockroaches disputed with us for its possession, and we rose in the morning, unrefreshed, to a day's ride in the rain. The road was worse than on the day we first came over it. It had stormed incessantly, the streams were swollen, the mud was deeper, and our horses stiff and weary, not to mention ourselves as in the same predicament. At times it rained so hard that our horses turned their backs to it, and refused to move, and there we had to sit until the violence of the shower was over. We often waded through streams up to the saddle-girth. Part of the way, the road was made of the trunks of fern-trees laid crosswise, not more than two or three feet broad. They were worn and broken, and in some places decayed entirely away. We considered it, however, a good road, and cantered over it, our sure-footed horses never once stumbling. Glad indeed, were we, to see the white spire of the Hilo church, and more glad to reach Mr. Coan's hospitable house, where hot baths and a good dinner in some degree enlivened us. Grandma was tired, but a night and day's rest made her quite herself again. We felt amply repaid for any amount of fatigue or discomfort, by our view of the crater and burning lake. It was a scene for a lifetime; no pen could describe it, no pencil portray it; one must see it with one's own eyes, to appreciate its wonders. God alone could create it; and his power only could say to this surging, fiery torrent, "Thus far shalt thou come, and no farther."

March 24th, we took the steamer Kilauea. It rained as we sailed out of the bay,—Byron's Bay as it is called. The surf rolls in here terrifically, and beats upon the shore with an incessant booming sound. The view of Hilo, as you enter the bay, is said to be very fine; but we were so unfortunate as to come in, in the night, and to go out in a rain-storm. The natives play in the surf a great deal. They have what is called a surfboard perhaps four or five feet long. With this board, they swim out perhaps a mile, and then lying on it, ride in on the top of the surf-billows. I was sorry not to see this amusement; but the little children, with their small boards, I often saw trying to imitate their elders.

"Don't they ever get hurt, aunty?" asked little Alice.

Not often. The natives are perfectly at home in the water, and can swim long distances. The women are about as good swimmers as the men.

Ah, the bell! the bell! we mustn't keep grandpa waiting.



XI.

Kau and Journey to Kaawaloa.

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