Scenes in the Hawaiian Islands and California

XIV

Kohala and Waimea

"WE are ready to hear about that queer-named place now, aunty," said Alice at my elbow as I sat writing in my room.

Oh, yes, about Kohala.

Every thing at Mr. Bond's was the pink of neatness, and though we were shut in by rain for five days, we enjoyed it. Sometimes, it would look like clearing up, and we would walk in the garden; but usually we had to hurry in to escape the rain.

The garden looked beautifully, with some rose-bushes twenty-five feet in circumference, and scarlet geraniums perhaps fifteen feet. It does one good just to look at them, after seeing only our little dwarf shrubs at home. Kanoa and his wife, the good Hawaiian missionaries to Micronesia, came with their little baby to bid us good-by.

We had mangoes for the first time at Mr. Bond's, which were delicious. In shape they are like a pear, only flatter, with the large end growing next the stem. I can not describe the taste, it is unlike any thing we have. The seed is very large, being nearly two thirds the size of the fruit. Fresh figs, too, we tried for the first time, and to our surprise liked them. We had some papaias, which grow on trees; the fruit tastes like a musk-melon, and pies made of them are very much like squash-pies.

Sabbath morning it cleared up about eleven, so that we could go to church. Notwithstanding the weather, a goodly congregation assembled, and listened to grandpa with great respect and attention. After meeting, as usual, they all wanted to shake hands with us. As I was going down the aisle, thinking I had shaken hands with all, I heard some one call "keika mahine, keika mahine" [daughter, daughter], and looking round, there was an old man standing up on a seat with his hand stretched out to shake hands. Of course I must gratify him. Fortunately for us, Monday, April 20, was a pleasant day, and we started about nine o'clock for Waimea across the mountain. Grandma rode about twelve miles in Mr. Christianson's wagon, and then as the wagon-road ended, she went the remainder of the way on horseback. The rest of us were in the saddle all the way. How the wind did blow! It seemed as if I should be carried out of my saddle bodily; but we rode on over fields and barren wastes, and through steep and rocky gulches. At noon we reached the house of a foreigner, and were hospitably entertained. Mr. Lyons was waiting for us there, and Mr. Bond left us. What was more to us than dinner, was a feast of home letters, which Mr. Lyons had brought for us. After resting an hour or more, we were all in our saddles again. As we were riding, on the summit of a hill, or mountain as we should call it, a beautiful scene opened before us. High above us the fleecy clouds parted, and we caught a glimpse of what seemed like "the promised land." There stood the peak of a lofty mountain covered with newly-fallen snow, shining white and beautiful in the sun's clear beams. It seemed too high up, too pure and fair in its framework of clouds, to belong to earth. This was the summit of Mauna Kea, and we shall not soon forget that vision of beauty. It seemed as if angels might flit over its snowy sides without any danger of soiling their pure white garments. We arrived at Mr. Lyons's about five, and were cordially met by Mrs. L. and her daughter.

On Wednesday, we attended a meeting at Mr. Lyons's church. The house was filled with nicely-dressed natives. Grandpa and Mr. L. sat in front of the pulpit. At the back of the church was a large choir of men and women, who sung well and with animation, beating time with their hands.

Soon after we entered, they sung an original hymn by a native named Lyana, which the choir sung to the tune of "Hendon."

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

Grandpa then made an address, and told them about the missions in Western Asia. Then Kanoa, the missionary to Micronesia, made a prayer; after which, he and his wife sung a Micronesian hymn. Grandpa told them, in another short address, about the India missions. Mr. Lyons then arose and spoke about his own mission, and introduced his senior deacon, Timotao Nalanipo, who made a speech in Hawaiian. Mr. Lyons translated it, and I will read you the translation.

"The church-members of the highlands of Waimea, the old men, the aged women, the strong men, the youth and children tender, through me, their salutation to you, the secretary, your companion, and daughter. Great, indeed, is our joy in being permitted to see you, to welcome you to our land. You have been sent by the learned Missionary Society of great America, as its delegate, to see the works of the gospel heralds you have sent to us.

"We, the ancient men of Kamehameha's time, were once idolaters, murderers, guilty of infanticide, polygamy, and constantly quarreling one with another. On the death of Kamehameha, the kingdom devolved on his son Liholiho. He abolished idolatry, broke the tabus; men and women for the first time ate together, and the temples and gods were burned to ashes.

"Still we lived on in poverty and darkness, and in secret worship of idols, and were without the knowledge of the living and true God. Men, women, and children were promiscuously devoted to the most sordid pleasures, heathenish dances, and revelries, day and night. In the year 1820, the missionaries, Mr. Bingham and company, came to these islands to proclaim the blessed gospel to us, who knew not God, nor had heard of the death of Jesus, the Messiah, the Saviour of the world. It was you, the Missionary Society you represent, that loved us, and sent the good missionaries to our dark land.

"The king and his premier allowed the missionaries to dwell with us to introduce a new order of things; to teach us first the twelve letters of the alphabet, then spelling, then reading and writing.

"During the forty-three years the missionaries have resided on the islands, much seed has been sown, much labor performed, and wonderful have been the results. We were once all dark, buried in darkness, sunk to the lowest depths of ignorance, roaming about the fields and woods, like wild beasts, without clothing, our naked bodies most shamefully exposed and blackened by the sun, without books, without Bibles, without Christianity, plunging into the darkness of hell. Now we are clothed, like civilized beings; we are Christianized; we are gathered into churches; we are intelligent; we are supplied with books, Bibles and hymn-books; and are living for God and for heaven; and this through the labors of the missionaries you have sent us.

"Our joy is inexpressible in seeing you; and we beg you to carry back to your associates, to the Missionary Society, to all the American churches connected with it, the warmest salutations of the churches of Waimea and Hamakua."

This good old man has since died, and gone, doubtless, to be with his Lord whom he so long loved and served.

At the close of the Hawaiian address, another original native hymn was sung, composed by Samuela, and sung to the tune of "Farewell, farewell is a lonely sound."

Mr. Lyons translated it for us: —

After this was sung, we shook hands with nearly all in the church. Many, to our embarrassment, brought little tokens of good-will in money, amounting in all to ten dollars. With this we bought Hawaiian Bibles to be distributed among the people. Imagine a man, coming up to shake hands, but stopping before he did it diving his hand into the pocket of his pantaloons, taking out a quarter of a dollar and laying it on the table, then shaking hands as if he had paid for it! They have, however, none of that feeling.

The tea-bell! the tea-bell!

XV

Maui

FOUR o'clock came, and with it my little folks, all ready for a story. So I commenced.

We left Waimea on the morning of April 23, and rode on horseback to Kowaihae, a distance of twelve miles; there we were to take the steamer Kilauea.

On our way down to the shore we visited a heiau [hay-ow], or heathen temple. It was built by Kamehameha I. at the time he was going over to conquer Maui [Mow-e]. This was the last temple built on Hawaii. All the inhabitants of the island, men and women, were commanded to come and help build it, and none dared to stay away. It is about two hundred feet square, twenty-five feet high, and as many feet thick, of solid stone, just like a massive wall. Within we saw where the sacrifices were laid overnight, and the pit where they were thrown in the morning, – a place called by the natives hell.

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

Human beings, – generally lame or maimed persons. Before Kamehameha I. left for the conquest of Maui, thirteen human sacrifices are said to have been offered on this altar to insure him success.

After being hospitably entertained by a son of Judge Allen at Kowaihae, we went on board the steamer about eight o'clock in the evening, and soon Hawaii was left behind in the darkness. We had finished our tour of that island, and saw it no more.

We had a rough night, and did not arrive at Kalepolepo, Maui, until twelve o'clock. We went on shore in a high wind, and landed in a storm of sand.

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

Just what I say, – a storm of sand. The wind was so strong that the very sand was blown up in our faces with such force as to make the skin tingle.

Mr. Alexander met us, and we started in this same storm and high wind for Wailuku, ten miles distant, where he resides. Even the gentlemen had veils over their faces, and hats tied on with handkerchiefs. The air was so thick with sand that we could hardly see, but we pushed bravely on. We were all on horseback, our baggage coming on more slowly in an ox-cart.

We had just got within sight of Mr. Alexander's house, having only a ride of perhaps ten minutes before us, when, to our dismay, there came a deluge of rain. My veil in a moment became like ground glass, the water making it impossible for me to see through it. Of course I could not guide my horse, but he followed the rest of the company; and glad indeed were we to change our soaked garments for others kindly furnished by the mission family, and thankful that our baggage did not arrive until after the shower was over, so that it escaped getting wet.

The next day we had a visit from many native men and women, who brought their gifts of eggs, onions, cabbages, fowls, and melons. They all seemed so genuinely happy to see us that it was a pleasure to meet them.

On the Sabbath we attended church all day, with a well-dressed and decorous congregation of Hawaiians. They had a melodeon and a very good choir. Mr. Alexander told us that six of the choir could play on the instrument, and they all take turns, one playing in the morning, another in the afternoon. They hired a teacher to come over from Lahaina once or twice a week. This they planned entirely among themselves, I believe.

Monday morning we made up a party to go into Iao [E-ah-o] valley. We were all on horseback, – nine of us, – and a happy company we were. The valley was so narrow that we crossed a swollen and rapid mountain stream five times. The ascent the last part of the way, before reaching the plateau, was very steep. But oh, what a magnificent valley we were in! It was about three miles long, and from one to two broad, while all around us, excepting the side we entered, were precipices from four to six or seven thousand feet high, in many instances perpendicular. It was a grand sight, to be remembered for a lifetime.

We dismounted from our horses, and the younger portion of the company rambled in the woods in search of tree-shells.

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

They are snail-shells. I think I was told that over a hundred varieties are found on the islands, every valley and each hundred feet of elevation having a different species. We used to notice the kind of tree that seemed to have the most, and then searched for that tree. They prefer the under sides of the leaves; so we would peer up in the branches, and when we found one, would pick it off and drop it in our pocket-handkerchief. After we were tired of "shelling," we came back to where our elders were quietly chatting, and had a nice picnic lunch, sitting on the grass, with fern-leaves for plates. What a sight was before our eyes! – these majestic works of God rising thousands of feet above us, apparently resting in clouds!

Towards the entrance of the valley is a very peculiar peak, called "The Needle," from its being so sharp and pointed. I wanted very much to sketch it, but started off without my materials; however grandpa had a note-book and pencil, and I knew that he would be willing to give me a leaf; but while we were off shelling, he left the valley and went back to Wailuku with Mr. Alexander, they having no time for picnicking; so what was I to do? Some of the lunch had been wrapped in white paper, which I smoothed out, and relied on some of the party for a pencil. When we got opposite "The Needle," I stopped my horse, and prepared myself for sketching, but not a pencil could be found among all the party. What do you think I did? I took a pin, and pricked the outline, and places where the heavy shading was to be, and after I got home drew the picture. This "Needle" has an historical interest. You remember I told you that the heathen temple near Kowaihae was built by Kamehameha I. before he left for the conquest of Maui. It was in this Iao valley that the people of Maui met the king's forces. A band of warriors with their families took refuge on this "Needle," which is accessible at such places only as could be easily defended against a large number. The enemy tried to starve them out, but failed. They then made believe they had left the valley, but at night hid themselves on the banks of the mountain stream where the warriors would go down to drink. As these poor deluded people came to quench their thirst, they murdered them all, men, women, and children. The stream flowed red with blood for two hours. That was heathen warfare, cruel and bloodthirsty, and this was the last battle fought on Maui; for the island became subject to the rule of Kamehameha I.

At six o'clock Wednesday morning, we started on horseback for Maanea's Landing, seven miles off, on the opposite side of the bay from Kalepolepo, expecting to take a whale-boat to Lahaina; but no whale-boat was there, so we had to return, bag and baggage, to Mr. Alexander's. We rode back the distance of seven miles in an hour, which we thought was doing very well, as grandma kept her place in the cavalcade all the way.

We passed over miles of land desolated by a waterspout which broke on the mountains, rolling down a flood of water with vast quantities of earth and stone into the valley below.

"What is a waterspout?"

It is a sort of whirlwind at sea; a body of water is caught up by the wind, sometimes joining the cloud above it, and rolling on until it meets with some obstacle, when it breaks, and washes away houses and trees, or anything movable. It will sink a ship if it strikes it.

The next morning we went down again to the shore, and were more successful, for the boat was there waiting for us. As the wind was fair, the boat-boys raised their sail, and we danced over the waves swiftly and merrily. After an hour's easy sailing, the wind left us, and our men took their oars for a two hours' rowing to Lahaina. For a part of the time we passed through shallow water over a coral reef, where we could look down upon forests of coral, shaped like branches of trees, white, or tinged slightly with red or green. It was a beautiful sight, and I longed to get some to bring home. We came safely through the surf. Lahaina looks beautifully as you approach it from the sea. It has some very pretty houses, and they seem to be embowered by cocoa-nut and other trees, so that the whole scene is more tropical in its appearance than any other place on the islands. We landed at the same spot where we had done six weeks before, and found our friends all ready to greet us, having seen our boat approaching. Our three hours' sail had been a very pleasant one, and the only sail we had had in a whale-boat.

After dinner, without stopping to rest, we mounted our horses, and sped up the hill to Lahainaluna, a distance of two miles, over a hot, dusty road, to attend the examination of the native seminary or college there. Most of the services were conducted in an unknown tongue, but the answers were prompt, and seemed to be in most instances satisfactory. After sitting and hearing recitations for about three hours, we left, and visited some of the rooms of the students. They looked very neat and clean, many of them having gay patchwork quilts on their beds, and quite a number of them had our illustrated newspapers pinned on the wall, with their favorite general occupying a conspicuous place.

The first of May was commencement day. The exercises were held in the church at Lahaina. We went down about nine. The alumni walked in a procession to the church, and were a fine-looking, intelligent set of men. The addresses were very creditable. The audience were attentive and quiet, and were well-dressed. The singing was very good, – Hawaiian words set to some of our familiar college tunes, which were sung with a great deal of spirit.

After the exercises in the church, the alumni had a dinner in the yard of the church, under a grove of cocoa-nut trees. The foreign guests were honored with a table by themselves, and were served by students. At the end of the table was a pig roasted whole, stuffed with greens, baked with hot stones in one of their ovens in the ground. This dish they call "luau" [lu-ow]. Besides whole pig, they had other pork, veal, poi, bread, cake, and cocoa-nut water. The whole dinner was well-served, and the white guests showed their appreciation of the good things by making a hearty dinner.

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

XVI

Lahaina – Kauai

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

We started soon after the alumni dinner, and rode down towards the beach, where we saw the American consul's residence, a cozy, thatched house, then turned off upon a road leading to the hospital. Here is the finest grove of cocoa-nut trees to be seen anywhere on the group of islands. Soon after the arrival of the missionaries, they perceived that no one planted cocoa-nuts, and that there was danger of the trees dying out. A missionary was talking to a high chief woman, and said to her, "Why don't you plant cocoa-nuts, so that trees may grow?" "Oh! I shall never live to eat them," she carelessly remarked. "True," said the missionary, "you may not live to eat them, but your children may live and enjoy the fruit."

She thought a few moments; a new idea seemed to have entered that mind just coming out from the darkness of heathenism into the light of Christianity. She had been accustomed only to think of herself, and what she might enjoy. It had never occurred to her that she could do anything for those who came after her until now, and she said, "It shall be done;" and within twenty-four hours, a schooner was sent off, which brought a load of cocoa-nuts, and these were planted where now is that beautiful cocoa-nut grove.

On returning from this grove, we passed by fields of sugar-cane, and visited Mr. Spencer's sugar-mill. It was a sweet place, and sticky too! They have a mill turned by twelve or fourteen mules in spans, which grinds the cane and presses out the juice. Then there are several vats in a row, with fires under them, where the juice is boiled. The sugar is clarified by lime-water; it is then put into round sieves which turn with great rapidity, and through which the syrup is pressed, leaving a clean-looking, dry, brown sugar. That is the process as near as I remember it. They make barrels in the same building, so that the sugar leaves the mill all ready for exporting.

Lahaina is a very dusty place, the earth is red and sticky. If we stayed there long, it seemed as if not only our clothes, but we ourselves, must become copper-colored.

On the Sabbath, May 3, a large assembly met at the church, and grandpa addressed them. They listened as usual with great attention, and after the service was over, they all flocked about him, wishing to shake hands. The communion service was in the afternoon, and all the ministers present took part. It was an interesting service, natives and foreigners sitting together around their Lord's table. Several friends in the mission coming together in the evening, at Dr. Baldwin's house, we sung hymns for an hour to our dear home tunes. It recalled to some of us our own loved America and the family circle where in years gone by we had sung with these friends the same tunes.

On Monday we attended an exhibition of Mr. Dwight Baldwin's native school. It was very interesting. The dialogues were exciting, even though in an unknown tongue and spoken by little boys; for they acted them out thoroughly, seeming to forget the spectators entirely. The singing was spirited and in good time. There was none of that painful shyness and hesitation which we sometimes see in our American schools, and we greatly enjoyed the scene.

Tuesday being our last day in Lahaina, a great many natives came to see us, bringing little love-tokens, – one or two shells such as they wear for bracelets, or a pretty wreath of yellow feathers such as are worn for a necklace. At seven in the evening, attended by quite a cavalcade of natives and other friends, we went on board the steamer Kilauea, and soon had our last view of Maui, as we slowly steamed away, and the darkness came on.

We entered the port of Honolulu at about ten the next morning, having been absent on our tour of the islands of Hawaii and Maui fifty-eight days. Our welcome from the friends in Honolulu was very hearty. The calls upon us commenced as soon as we reached Mr. Clark's, and each day we dined or took tea or lunched with some one of the mission families.

Saturday morning, May 9, was spent in calling on the old Governor Kekuanaoa, and his daughter, the Princess Victoria, the father and sister of the present and late kings. They live in a very pretty-looking house, with a garden attached to it. The governor has a grapery, and presented us with some fine bunches of grapes. There were some very long canoes being made on his premises, consisting each of the trunk of a tree, scooped out and prettily finished.