LETTER XVI.] 



OUT OF THE WORLD. 



157 



rift of rock, and screen from view the precipices of the pali. 

 The valley looks as if it could only be reached in a long day's 

 travel, so very far it is below, but the steepness of the track 

 makes it accessible in an hour from the summit. As we de- 

 scended, houses and a church which had looked like toys at 

 first, dilated on our sight, the silver ribbon became a stream, 

 the specks on the meadows turned into horses, the white, wavy 

 line on the Pacific beach turned into a curling wave, and lower 

 still, I saw people, who had seen us coming down, hastily 

 shuffling into clothes. 



There were four houses huddled between the pali and the 

 river, and six or eight, with a church and schoolhouse on the 

 other side ; and between these and the ocean a steep, narrow 

 beach, composed of large stones worn as round and smooth as 

 cannon balls, on which the surf roars the whole year round. 

 The pali which walls in the valley on the other side is inacces- 

 sible. The school children and a great part of the population 

 had assembled in front of the house which I described before. 

 There was a sort of dyke of rough lava stones round it, difficult 

 to climb, but the natives, though they are very kind, did not, 

 on this or any similar occasion, offer me any help, which 

 neglect, I suppose, arises from the fact that the native women 

 never need help, as they are as strong, fearless, and active as 

 the men, and rival them in swimming and other athletic sports. 

 An old man, clothed only with his dark skin, was pounding 

 baked kalo for poi, in front of the house ; a woman with flowers 

 in her hair, but apparently not otherwise clothed, was wading 

 up to her waist in the river, pushing before her a light trumpet- 

 shaped basket used for catching shrimps, and the other women 

 wore the usual bright-coloured chemises. 



I wanted to make the most of the six hours of daylight left, 

 and we remounted our horses and rode for some distance up 

 the river, which is the highway of the valley, all the children 

 swimming on our right and left, each holding up a bundle of 

 clothes Avith one hand, and two canoes paddled behind us. 

 The river is still and clear, with a smooth bottom, but comes 

 halfway up a horse's body, and riders take their feet out of the 

 stirrups, bring them to a level with the saddle, lean slightly 

 back, and hold them against the horse's neck. Equestrians 

 following this fashion, canoes gliding, children and dogs swim- 

 ming, were a most amusing picture. Several of the children 

 swim to and from school every day. I was anxious to get rid 

 of this voluntary escort, and we took a gallop over the springy 



