Our Little Hawaiian Cousin

CHAPTER III.

SURF-RIDING

Auwae has a loved playmate, Upa, a boy a little older than herself. He goes with the party to the beach. Carrying their surf-boards under their arms, the two children hurry ahead to the beach of shining white coral sand. Look! The broad Pacific now stretches out before their eyes. How blue are the waters, reaching out in the distance till they seem to meet a sky just as blue and clear of a passing cloud! How the hot sunshine beats down upon the sand! Yet Auwae does not seem to mind it. She stoops to pick a wild morning-glory growing almost at the water's edge, and then dances about, saying to Upa:

"Hurrah! The waves are just fine to-day for bathing, aren't they?"

We almost hold our breath at the thought of these children trusting themselves out in the high waves rushing in from the coral reef a quarter of a mile outside. Then, too, we know there are sharks in these waters; and what a terrible death would be Auwae's if one of these creatures should grind her between his many teeth!

As to the sharks, we need not fear, as they never venture nearer than the coral reefs, which seem to be a wall beyond which they dare not pass. And as for the water! why, when we have once seen Auwae swim, we can no longer fear for her safety. It seems as though water, instead of land, must be her natural abiding-place.

But now the rest of the party have arrived, bringing with them their surf-boards, or wave-sliding-boards, as we might call them.

For those living on Hawaii's shore, much of the pleasure of life depends on these pieces of wood so carefully prepared. They are made from the strong, tough trunk of the breadfruit-tree, are highly polished, and about two feet wide. They look very much like coffin lids, and are long enough for one to stretch at length upon them.

It takes but a few moments to remove their clothing and put on their bathing-costumes. For the men, it is the malo, a piece of cloth wound about the loins and between the legs, and, before the white people came, the only garment worn by them at any time.

All are now ready for the sport. They wade out into deep water with the surf-boards under their arms. Then, pushing them in front, they swim out till they reach the breakers, when they suddenly dive and disappear from view.

There is no sign of them for several moments. Now look far out and you can see their black heads bobbing about in the smooth water beyond the waves. Watch them carefully as they wait for that great roller about to turn toward the shore. They leap upon its crest, lying flat upon their boards, and are borne to the beach with the speed of the wind.

It must be grand sport, once they know just how and when to take advantage of the incoming wave, as well as the still greater skill in riding on that wave without being swallowed by it. It is harder to succeed than one imagines before trying the experiment himself, for the swimmers are obliged to use their hands and feet constantly to keep themselves in place.

Some of them do not even rest on the shore before swimming out for another wave slide; and as the afternoon passes they rival each other in more and more daring feats. See those two men no longer lying flat on their boards as they rush onward in the water! They only kneel, and wave their arms and shout in glee to their companions. But most daring of all is Auwae's father, who actually stands erect as he is borne toward the shore on the crest of a huge wave. He travels at a rate sufficient to deprive one of breath.

The kind man takes time during the afternoon to give Auwae lessons in riding her own board, which he has lately made for her. Up to this time she has had to be content with swimming only, and in this, as I told you, she is already wonderfully skilful and graceful.

The hours pass only too quickly, and night suddenly shuts down upon the happy people. The moon comes out in such beauty as is seen only in the tropics. It bathes sea and shore in a soft, sweet light, so pleasant after the dazzling brightness of the sun. Auwae and Upa once more lead the party as they wander slowly homeward and again enter the shadow of the tall palm-trees.

The children look toward the mountains behind the village reaching up so grandly till their tops are lost in the clouds, and Upa says:

"Auwae, do you know that my father is going to Kilauea next week, and he says I may go with him. Ask your father if you may go, too. It will be such fun!"

Auwae has wished a long, long time for such a chance as this. She claps her hands in delight, as she feels quite sure of her parents' consent.

Kilauea! She has heard so much about the mighty crater. Even now she can see a faint reddish gleam light up the sky in the distance. The largest active volcano in the world is showing that it is still alive and using the mighty forces directed from the very bowels of the earth.[1 - This volcano is not constantly, but intermittently, in eruption.]

It would almost seem as if Auwae would feel fear at living in the shadow of a volcano. Is she not sometimes awakened in the night by the low rumbling sound coming to her through the clear air? And does she not then lie trembling at the thought that she may sometime be swallowed up in a tremendous flow of lava? Other children in towns like hers have met such a fate in the years that are gone. Why should she not fear?

But Auwae was born here, and has always lived where she could see the light from that huge furnace of Nature. She is so used to it that she does not dread its power. She lives in the joy of the present, and does not consider that which might possibly come to her.

Think of it! This home of hers and its sister islands are the children of volcanoes, for they were born of fierce explosions of lava, thrown above the surrounding waters from the floor of the sea. Foot by foot Hawaii has been built up out of the water. Layer after layer of lava has been poured, one above the other; then, cooling and crumbling, a soil has been formed on which the beautiful plants and trees of the tropics have taken root.

But this is not the whole story of the island, for tiny creatures of the sea have given what was in their power. The coral reefs lying along the shore have been built up by the growth of millions of polyps, and the shining white sand is composed of finely ground coral, which once formed the skeletons of similar polyps.

What curious helpers Mother Nature sometimes chooses! Think of the coral polyps and their strange lives, leaving when they die a foundation upon which men and animals shall afterward have a home! Upa often dives for the sprays of coral, pink or white. He sells them to the white people in the village, who send them as curiosities to other countries.

Auwae and Upa bid each other good night at the garden wall. The little girl stops for a moment at the pond in the garden where many goldfish are moving about in the moonlight. She loves her beautiful fish; she feeds them every day, and often thinks how kind her father was to make the pond for her delight.

CHAPTER IV.

QUARTERLY REVIEW

As she stands beside the beautiful clear water, an unpleasant thought comes into her mind. It was only yesterday that some white travellers came through the village on horseback. A little girl about Auwae's own age was in the party. She was very pretty. Her cheeks were pink and white; her hair was like the golden sunlight; her eyes were as clear and blue as the waters surrounding the beautiful island.

"Why wasn't I made white?" the little brown girl said to herself. "If I should bathe myself over and over again, it would make no" difference. I should never look like her. Oh, dear, I will ask mother why God made us so different.

She ran quickly back down the pathway till she met her mother.

"Mamma," she whispered, "I think you are just lovely as you are, but still I do wish I had been born to look like the little American girl I saw yesterday on horseback."

"My dear one," answered her mother, "God is love, and all are alike to Him. In the fields around us He has made flowers of many kinds and colours. Some roses are red, and some are white, yet the red and the white are equally admired. So it is with the people who share His life. Some are of one colour, some another; they are all needed to give variety and beauty to the world. All are equally His work. Be happy and contented, my darling, and think no more about it."

Auwae's eyes grow bright again as her mother speaks. The shadow passes away, and she is her own joyous self again.

"Of course it is all right. I'm glad I'm just what I am," she exclaims. "And yet, mamma, when Christmas comes, I believe I should like a white doll that would look like that little girl. I could have such fun playing with her and curling her hair. You know we often put red and white roses in the same bowl, and they look very pretty together."

"All right, I will remember your wish when the time comes," laughs her good-natured mother, while Auwae hastens away, half dancing, half running.

She must certainly hurry to bed now, for to-morrow is a school day, and she wishes to wake early in the morning. The moon shines so brightly to-night that Auwae can easily see to undress by it and stretch upon the floor the strip of tapa which serves for her bed. If it were dark, however, she would use an odd candle that she herself made. It is formed of candlenuts strung together. They grew near Auwae's home, and are so much like wax they burn readily. I should much prefer them to a calabash of beef fat with a rag for a wick, which is sometimes used by Auwae's mother.

"Now I lay me down to sleep," repeats the gentle child, as she kneels in her little corner, and is soon fast asleep.

Where did Auwae learn this prayer? It was in the white church in the village. There the old Hawaiian minister tells his little flock every Sunday of the One True God, and of the loving Friend who said: "Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven."

Auwae loves her Sunday school; she delights in the music of the organ and the songs she learns there. Every three months there is a grand celebration in the church. It is called "Quarterly Review." All the children in the country for miles around come flocking into Auwae's village. It is such a pretty sight, as the boys and girls come marching over the hillsides! The girls are dressed in white, and everybody wears a wreath and festoons of bright flowers. Sometimes they sing as they march along.

By ten o'clock in the morning the church is closely packed and the music begins. There is song after song, after which the children are called one by one to the platform to speak pieces and recite Bible verses. The ones who have learned most receive the prizes. Auwae won a prize at the last quarterly review. It is a picture of the infant Jesus giving water to his cousin John from a shell. No doubt you have seen a copy of it. Auwae thinks it is a lovely picture. It is the only one of any kind in her house.

The quarterly review lasts the whole day. The children do not get tired, however. They have a picnic dinner under the trees behind the church; then they are ready for more songs, and speak more pieces, until the round red sun in the west says:

"Come, my little ones, hurry homeward quickly. Many of you have miles of walking before you, and I cannot show you the way much longer."

Then Auwae bids her friends good-bye. She will not again see some of them till three months more have passed.

Aloha! Aloha! echoes back from the hill-tops, and our little girl turns again to her own lovely nest under the palm-trees. How different everything is now from the old days of Auwae's people! Her grandmother has told her about the hideous idols they used to worship.

There is an old heathen temple but a few miles from her home, and once, just once, Auwae and Upa dared to peep inside; then they ran away with all their might, for fear that somehow those long rows of ugly figures might become alive and follow them.

Think of it! less than a hundred years ago not only animals, but human beings, little children even, were sacrificed to hideous wooden and stone idols.

The people were in constant terror of the god of the shark, the goddess of the volcano, and other fearful beings who were ever ready, as they thought, to bring destruction upon them. Besides these, there were great giants and monsters whose anger must be satisfied by offerings of animals and men.

"How glad I am that I live now instead of a hundred years ago," says Auwae to Upa many times, as she thinks of Pele, the goddess of the volcano Kilauea. "Grandma has told me of her own mother, who really believed that Pele lived far down in the fiery crater, that she was the ruler and queen of fire. She thought that other spirits, too, lived there. There was the spirit of steam, the spirit of the thunderbolt, the spirit of strength, and I don't know how many other terrible beings. And oh, what times those spirits had together in the flames, dancing and making merry! But if the people forgot to bring Pele their offerings of hogs and bananas and all sorts of presents, she would get fearfully angry, and roar and threaten to overflow the country with lava. They would get very much frightened, and hasten to the summit of the volcano with the best they had."

And then perhaps Upa answers, "Please don't speak of those awful days any more. I like best to think of the time when our people turned from such ideas of their own accord, saying they were just nonsense. But, really, it must have taken a brave woman to do what Queen Kapiolani did. You know she walked right up the side of the mountain with her trembling followers, and kept on till she reached the very mouth of the crater, and then dared Pele to do her worst. She turned to her followers, and said: 'I do not believe in Pele! If there is no such being, no harm will come.' Of course, the people expected the fiery waves to leap up and swallow them, but nothing did happen, you know.

"Hurrah for the old queen's pluck, I say. After that, women dared to eat bananas and do many other things the priests had forbidden to all but men, saying it would make the gods angry. How silly the people used to be in those days!"