412 The Botanical Gazette. [December, 
On awakening upon the seventh day out, and looking 
through the port-hole of my state room, I saw that we were 
sailing near land. Rugged barren looking hills were seen; 
and, going upon deck, I learned that this was Oahu, the 
island upon which Honolulu is situated. As we skirted the 
shore at a distance, I soon spied a grove of unmistakable cocoa 
palms, the first hint of the tropical vegetation to which I was 
soon to be introduced. Beyond was the bold promontory of 
Diamond Head, an extinct volcanic crater, forming a great 
bowl with rugged sides, right at the water's edge. Beyond 
this, and bounded partly by it, is the bay upon whose shores 
stands the city. Back of it rose abruptly a chain of moun- 
tains, in places about three thousand feet above sea-level, and 
furrowed by deep valleys, whose walls, as well as the cloud- 
capped summits of the hills, were covered with the most won- 
derfully verdant vegetation. Never before had I realized the 
possibilities of green. Blue greens, yellow greens, gray 
greens, and positive greens, with all degrees of these and 
others that are indescribable, combined to form what Whistler 
would term a symphony in green. 
As if to vie with the colors of the mountains, the sea ex- 
hibited an equally wonderful variety of tints. Outside the 
harbor is a coral reef, and within this the water is of the pale 
green common to shallow ocean water; but outside it deepens 
very rapidly into the vivid blue of the open ocean. From a 
distance the line is clearly seen; but, as the observer ap- 
proaches shore, the water changes from deep blue through 
every shade of blue and green until the pale green of the 
water within the harbor is reached. 
As we approached land numbers of the queer outrigger 
canoes of the natives were met, and from the wharf boys 
jumped into the water and swam about the ship in the hope 
of persuading some of the passengers to throw over to them 
coins, which they are very skillful in diving for. : 
n the way to the hotel a few gardens were passed, and in 
them everything was strange. By far the most striking thing 
was the superb Poinciana regia. Although I had never seen 
this before I recognized it in an instant from a description of 
Charles Kingsley’s, read long ago. Surely in the whole ves- 
etable kingdom there is no more splendid plant. A spread- 
ing flat-topped tree, perhaps thirty feet high, with feathery 
green, acacia-like foliage and immense flat clusters of big 
