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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This is the height of enjoyment in travelling. I have just encamped
under a lauhala tree, with my saddle inverted for a pillow, my horse
tied by a long lariat to a guava bush, my gear, saddle-bags, and
rations for two days lying about, and my saddle blanket drying in
the sun. Overhead the sun blazes, and casts no shadow; a few fleecy
clouds hover near him, and far below, the great expanse of the
Pacific gleams in a deeper blue than the sky. Far above, towers the
rugged and snow-patched, but no longer mysterious dome of Mauna Loa;
while everywhere, ravines, woods, waterfalls, and stretches of lawn-
like grass delight the eye. All green that I have ever seen, of
English lawns in June, or Alpine valleys, seems poor and colourless
as compared with the dazzling green of this sixty-five miles. It is
a joyous green, a glory. Whenever I look up from my writing, I ask,
Was there ever such green? Was there ever such sunshine? Was there
ever such an atmosphere? Was there ever such an adventure? And
Nature - for I have no other companion, and wish for none - answers,
"No." The novelty is that I am alone, my conveyance my own horse;
no luggage to look after, for it is all in my saddle-bags; no guide
to bother, hurry, or hinder me; and with knowledge enough of the
country to stop when and where I please.
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