TIME AND CHANGE 
hardly believe it was ten thousand feet high. The 
machine climbed easily more than half the distance 
to Mr. Aiken’s plantation, which we reached in good 
time in the afternoon, and where we passed a very 
enjoyable night. It was a surprise to find swarms 
of mosquitoes at this altitude, so free from all 
mosquito-breeding waters. But the house was well 
protected against them. Mosquitoes, as well as flies 
and vermin, are not native to the island. They 
came in ships not very long ago, and are now very 
troublesome in certain parts. They came round 
the Horn. Mr. Aiken’s house itself came round 
the Horn seventy or eighty years ago. It is a 
quaint, New England type of house, and has a very 
homelike look. In front of it, near the gate, stands 
a Japanese pine which is an object of veneration to 
all Japanese who chance to come that way. Often 
their eyes fill with tears on beholding it, so respon- 
sive are the little yellow men to associations of 
home. 
In the morning Mr. Aiken drove us in a wagon to 
a place he has called “Idlewild,” six miles farther 
up the great slope of the mountain. This slope of 
Haleakala is like a whole township, diversified with 
farms and woods, valleys and hills, resting on its 
elbows, so to speak, and looking out over the Pacific. 
We could look up to the cloud-line, about seven 
thousand feet above the sea, and occasionally get a 
glimpse of the long line of the summit through rifts 
136 
