TIME AND CHANGE 
roads, in the fresh morning air, near the beach, to 
Wailuku, the shire town of the island, two or three 
miles distant. Here we were most hospitably enter- 
tained in the home of Mr. Penhallow, the director 
of a large sugar plantation. 
Here for the first time in my life I saw a gang of 
steam plows working, pulled by a stationary engine 
at each end of the field, and turning over the red, 
heavy volcanic soil. The work was mainly in the 
hands of Japanese, and was well done. We after- 
ward saw Japanese by the score, both men and 
women, planting a large area of newly plowed 
land with sugar-cane. 
After we were rested and refreshed, and had 
sampled the mangoes that had fallen from a tree 
near the house, Mr. Aiken took us in his automobile 
up into the famous Iao Valley, at the mouth of 
which Wailuku is situated. It is a deep, striking 
chasm carved out of the mountain by the stream, 
rank with verdure of various kinds, and looked 
down upon by sharp peaks and ridges five or six 
thousand feet high. We soon reached the clear 
rapid, brawling stream, as bright as a Catskill moun- 
tain trout brook, and after a mile or two along its 
course we came to the end of the road, where we left 
the machine and took atrailthat wound onward and 
upward over a slippery surface and through dripping 
bushes, for we here began to reach the skirts of the 
little showers that almost constantly career overand 
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