th and light begin to diffuse them- 
s over my frame, than I found myself 
ntly seized with violent pain and in- 
her painful on the mountain, from the 
effect of the sun's rays shining on the snow; 
: for a few hours, dreaming the while of 
gurgling cascades, overhung with sparkling 
. münbows, of which the dewy spray moist- 
ened my whole body, while my lips were 
all the time glued together with thirst, and 
. my parched tongue almost rattled in my 
v mouth. My poor man, Calipio, was also 
. attacked with inflammation in his eyes, and 
. gladly did we hail the approach of day. 
- The sun rose brightly on the morning of 
: Thursday, January 30th, and gilding the 
_ Snow over which we had passed, showed 
Our way to have been infinitely more rug- 
ged and precarious than it had appeared 
by moon-light. I discovered that by keep- 
ing about a mile and a half too much to the 
East, we had left the camp nearly five hun- 
dred feet above our present situation; and 
T Teurning thither over the rocks, we found 
Honori engaged in'preparing breakfast. 
| He had himself reached the camp about 
Mon on the second day. He gave me a 
bg " fall of water, with a large piece 
um bes ba which refreshed me greatly. 
QT ps of opium in the eyes afforded 
7 instant relief both to Calipio and myself. 
=e man with the provision was here also, 
x shortly made a comfortable meal, 
: Cosme after, leaving one man 
ma EA some food for the bird-catcher 
E two companions, we prepared to 
nga com Started at nine a. M. to re- 
«ui Le by which we had come. 
En one may be at witnessing 
^d ul works of God in such a place 
sti it Summit of this mountain presents, 
"18 with: thankfulness that we again 
: VoL, I climate more congenial to our 
croi LaL ee Lue Ro MENT o "ES zs 
PEE 5 = iro 
T MP EY, MET PPS RENE. 
L 
SANDWICH ISLANDS, AND THE ASCENT OF MOUNA ROA. 
177 
natures, and welcome the habitations of 
our fellow-men, where we are refreshe 
with the scent of vegetation, and soothed 
by the melody of birds. When about 
three miles below the camp, my three 
companions of yesterday appeared like 
mawkins, on the craggy lava, just at the 
very spot where I had come down. A 
signal was made them to proceed to the 
camp, which was seen and obeyed, and we 
proceeded onwards, collecting a good many 
plants by the way. Arriving at Strawberry 
Well, we made a short halt to dine, and 
ascertained the barometer to be 25° 750'; 
air 57°, and the well 51°; dew 56°. There 
were vapoury light clouds in the sky, and 
a wind. We arrived at Kapupala 
at four p.M. The three other men came 
up at seven, much fatigued, like myself. 
Bar. at Kapupala at eight P. m. 27° 936'; 
air 57°; and the sky clear.” 
This is the closing sentence of Mr. Doug- 
las’ Journal ; penned indeed, by the date, 
some months previous to the letter which 
immediately precedes this portion of the 
Journal (May 6th, 1834), and which was 
certainly among the last, if it were not the 
very last, that he addressed to any friend 
in Europe, and that gave hopes of seeing 
him home at no distant period. Of the 
events which happened between that period 
and the melancholy accident which occa- 
sioned his death, a space of little more 
than two months, there is, unfortunately, 
no information. The first knowledge of his 
decease, which reached one of the mem- 
bers of the family in this country, was in 
a peculiarly abrupt and painful manner, 
It was seen in a number of the Liverpool 
Mercury, by his brother, Mr. John Douglas, 
when looking for the announcement of the 
marriage of a near relative. He immedi- 
ately set out for Glasgow, to communicate 
the unwelcome tidings to me: and in afew 
days they were confirmed on more unques- 
tionable authority, by a letter from Richard 
Charlton, Esq., H. B. M. Consul at the 
Sandwich Islands, to James Bandinel, Esq., 
inclosing a most affecting document, rela- 
tive to the event, from two Missionaries, 
M 
