The Hawaiian Archipelago - Six Months Among The Palm Groves, Coral Reefs, And Volcanoes Of The Sandwich Islands By Isabella L. Bird
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As Soon As
We Left The Crater-House Upa Started Over The Grass At Full Speed,
My Horse Of Course
Followed, and my feet being jerked out of the
stirrups, I found myself ignominiously sitting on the animal's back
behind
The saddle, and nearly slid over his tail, before, by skilful
efforts, I managed to scramble over the peak back again, when I held
on by horn and mane until the others stopped. Happily I was last,
and I don't think they saw me. Upa amused me very much on the way;
he insists that I am "a high chief." He said a good deal about
Queen Victoria, whose virtues seem well known here: "Good Queen
make good people," he said, "English very good!" He asked me how
many chiefs we had, and supposing him to mean hereditary peers, I
replied, over 500. "Too many, too many!" he answered emphatically -
"too much chief eat up people!" He asked me if all people were good
in England, and I was sorry to tell him that this was very far from
being the case. He was incredulous, or seemed so out of flattery,
and said, "You good Queen, you Bible long time, you good!" I was
surprised to find how much he knew of European politics, of the
liberation of Italy, and the Franco-German war. He expressed a most
orthodox horror of the Pope, who, he said, he knew from his Bible
was the "Beast!" He said, "I bring band and serenade for good Queen
sake," but this has not come off yet.
We straggled into Hilo just at dusk, thoroughly wet, jaded, and
satisfied, but half-starved, for the rain had converted that which
should have been our lunch into a brownish pulp of bread and
newspaper, and we had subsisted only on some half-ripe guavas.
After the black desolation of Kilauea, I realized more fully the
beauty of Hilo, as it appeared in the gloaming. The rain had
ceased, cool breezes rustled through the palm-groves and sighed
through the funereal foliage of the pandanus. Under thick canopies
of the glossy breadfruit and banana, groups of natives were twining
garlands of roses and ohia blossoms. The lights of happy foreign
homes flashed from under verandahs festooned with passion-flowers,
and the low chant, to me nearly intolerable, but which the natives
love, mingled with the ceaseless moaning of the surf and the sighing
of the breeze through the trees, and a heavy fragrance, unlike the
faint sweet odours of the north, filled the evening air. It was
delicious.
I suffered intensely from pain and stiffness, and was induced to try
a true Hawaiian remedy, which is not only regarded as a cure for all
physical ills, but as the greatest of physical luxuries; i.e. lomi-
lomi. This is a compound of pinching, pounding, and squeezing, and
Moi Moi, the fine old Hawaiian nurse in this family, is an adept in
the art. She found out by instinct which were the most painful
muscles, and subjected them to a doubly severe pounding, laughing
heartily at my groans. However, I must admit that my arms and
shoulders were almost altogether relieved before the lomi-lomi was
finished. The first act of courtesy to a stranger in a native house
is this, and it is varied in many ways. Now and then the patient
lies face downwards, and children execute a sort of dance upon his
spine. {95} Formerly, the chiefs, when not engaged in active
pursuits, exacted lomi-lomi as a constant service from their
followers.
A number of Hilo folk came in during the evening to inquire how we
had sped, and for news of the volcano. I think the proximity of
Kilauea gives sublimity to Hilo, and helps to lift conversation out
of common-place ruts. It is no far-off spectacle, but an immediate
source of wonder and apprehension, for it rocks the village with
earthquakes, and renders the construction of stone houses and
plastered ceilings impossible. It rolls vast tidal waves with
infinite destruction on the coast, and of late years its fiery
overflowings have twice threatened this paradise with annihilation.
Then there is the dead volcano of Mauna Loa, from whose resurrection
anything may be feared. Even last night a false rumour that a light
was to be seen on its summit brought everyone out, but it was only
an increased glare from the pit of Hale-mau-mau. It is most
interesting to be in a region of such splendid possibilities.
I.L.B.
LETTER VII.
HILO, HAWAII.
The white population here, which constitutes "society," is very
small. There are two venerable missionaries "Father Coan" and
"Father Lyman," the former pastor of a large native congregation,
which, though much shrunken, is not only self-sustaining, but
contributes $1200 a year to foreign missions, and the latter, though
very old and frail, the indefatigable head of an industrial school
for native young men. Their houses combine the trimness of New
England, with the luxuriance of the tropics; they are cool retreats,
embowered among breadfruit, tamarind, and bamboo, through whose
graceful leafage the blue waters of the bay are visible.
Innumerable exotics are domesticated round these fair homesteads.
Two of "Father Lyman's" sons are influential residents, one being
the Lieutenant-Governor of the island. Other sons of former
missionaries are settled here in business, and there are a few
strangers who have been attracted hither. Dr. Wetmore, formerly of
the mission, is a typical New Englander of the old orthodox school.
It is pleasant to see him brighten into almost youthful enthusiasm
on the subject of Hawaiian ferns. My host, a genial, social,
intelligent American, is sheriff of Hawaii, postmaster, etc., and
with his charming wife (a missionary's daughter), and some friends
who live with them, make their large house a centre of kindliness,
friendliness, and hospitality. Mr. Thompson, pastor of the foreign
church, is a man of very liberal culture, as well as wide
sympathies.
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