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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After Plodding All Day Over
Stony Soil In The Changeless Sunshine, As The Shadows Lengthened, We
Turned Directly Up Towards The Mountains And Began A Two Hours
Ascent.
It was delicious.
They were so cool, so green, so varied,
their grey pinnacles so splintered, their precipices so abrupt,
their ravines so dark and deep, and their lower slopes covered with
the greenest and finest grass; then dark ohias rose singly, then in
twos and threes, and finally mixed in dense forest masses, with the
pea-green of the kukui.
It became yet lovelier as the track wound through deep wooded
ravines, or snaked along the narrow tops of spine-like ridges; the
air became cooler, damper, and more like elixir, till at a height of
1500 feet we came upon Makaueli, ideally situated upon an unequalled
natural plateau, a house of patriarchal size for the islands, with a
verandah festooned with roses, fuchsias, the water lemon, and other
passion flowers, and with a large guest-house attached. It stands
on a natural lawn, with abrupt slopes, sprinkled with orange trees
burdened with fruit, ohias, and hibiscus. From the back verandah
the forest-covered mountains rise, and in front a deep ravine widens
to the grassy slopes below and the lonely Pacific, - as I write, a
golden sea, on which the island of Niihau, eighteen miles distant,
floats like an amethyst.
The solitude is perfect. Except the "quarters" at the back, I think
there is not a house, native or foreign, within six miles, though
there are several hundred natives on the property.
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