TE PITO TE HENUA OR EASTER ISLAND. 697 



In traveling southward, along the slope of the mountain, on again 

 approaching tlie region of grass it was singular to observe the line of 

 demarcation. The sand, moved by the winds, was gradually encroaching 

 upon the vegetation, the depth of the edge being about G inches. The 

 contrast between the deep red of the one and the vivid green of the 

 other was very striking, and the line was as straight, regular, and 

 clearlj- drawn, with fertility on one side and barrenness on the other, 

 as any of a similar nature seen by the writer in Egypt. 



The walking upon the sand, although tiresome, was easy as com- 

 pared with that on the hummock grass, over which our route now lay. 

 In our journeyings theretofore, although there was no regular paths 

 and of course no roads, we were fortunate enough occasionally to strike 

 a sheep or cattle trail, which afforded a welcome relief, however brief, 

 to our jaded feet. There was nothing of the sort now — no avoiding of 

 rough places, no choice of spots to plant a foot — and as we moved 

 grimly onward, blundering at every step, tlie distance around Cape 

 Auaataavanui seemed interminable. Thoroughly fatigued we reached 

 the precipice, which terminated the plateau over which we had been 

 struggling, and looking to the westward saw the welcome flags, still a 

 mile distant, waving over our camp. The descent of the precipice at 

 the j)oint reached being precarious, its edge was skirted until a more 

 favorable place was found down which to scramble to the plain below. 

 Here we presently struck a trail, which soon opened into a wagon road, 

 whence a footpath led to the camp, which the writer (the party having 

 been scattered since noon) reached at 4.30 in the afternoon. 



The situation of the camp, which was named "Baird '' in honor of the 

 secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, was a delightful one, being 

 located on the south side of the little bay of Hanga J^ui, at the base of 

 a bluft" which partly sheltered it from the strong southeast trades, as 

 well as the hot afternoon sun. Eana Roraka, from the crater and 

 slopes of which all the monoliths on the island had been quarried, lay 

 immediately to the left. Pua-ko-taki, over whose summit and around 

 whose base we had toiled, loomed in front of us. Lying in the opening 

 of our cave, we could gaze upon the great platform, Tongarika, with 

 its fifteen prostrate stone images, the largest and most imposing on the 

 island. At our feet, surging back and forth among the everlasting 

 rocks as the swell rolled in from the open ocean, lay the sparkling- 

 waters of the Hanga Nui Bay. 



The cave, called "Ana Havea" by the natives, ran back into the bluff 

 a distance of 50 feet or more and laterally about 30. The entrance was 

 spacious, and it was roomy, dry, and well ventilated, the trade wind, 

 deflected by the blutt", sweeping nearly across its face. It was an ancient 

 cavern, had been inhabited by the image builders, and was still occu- 

 pied at times by the natives, as also by Messrs. Salmon and Brander 

 when in this part of the island, engaged in rounding up their herds of 

 cattle or sheep. The floor was strewn with dry litter, bull rushes and 



