LETTER XXI.] 



A PATRIARCHAL HOME. 



201 



all white with foam and dust, and this escapade detained 

 us another night. Subsequently, after disobeying orders, he 

 lost his horse, which was a borrowed one, deserted his mistress, 

 and absconded ! 



The slopes over which we travelled were red, hot, and stony, 

 cleft in one place however, by a green, fertile valley, full of 

 rice and kalo patches, and native houses, with a broad river, 

 the Hanape'pe, flowing quietly down the middle, which we 

 forded near the sea, where it was half-way up my horse's sides. 

 After plodding all day over stony soil in the changeless sun- 

 shine, as the shadows lengthened, we turned directly up 

 towards the mountains and began a two hours' ascent. It was 

 delicious. They were so cool, so green, so varied, their grey 

 pinnacles so splintered, their precipices so abrupt, their ravines 

 so dark and deep, and their lower slopes covered with the 

 greenest and finest grass ; then dark oliias rose singly, then in 

 twos and threes, and finally mixed in dense forest masses, with 

 the pea-green of the kukui. 



It became yet lovelier as the track wound through deep 

 wooded ravines, or snaked along the narrow tops of spine- 

 like ridges ; the air became cooler, damper, and more like 

 elixir, till at a height of 1500 feet we came upon Makaueli, 

 ideally situated upon an unequalled natural plateau, a house of 

 patriarchial size for the islands, with a verandah festooned with 

 roses, fuchsias, the water lemon, and other passion flowers, and 

 with a large guest-house attached. It stands on a natural 

 lawn, with abrupt slopes, sprinkled with orange trees burdened 

 with fruit, ohias, and hibiscus. From the back verandah the 

 forest-covered mountains rise, and in front a deep ravine 

 widens to the grassy slopes below and the lonely Pacific, — as 

 I write, a golden sea, on which the island of Niihau, eighteen 

 miles distant, floats like an amethyst. 



The solitude is perfect. Except the " quarters " at the back, 

 I think there is not a house, native or foreign, within six miles, 

 though there are several hundred natives on the property. 

 Birds sing in the morning, and the trees rustle throughout the 

 day ■ but in the cool evenings the air is perfectly still, and the 

 trickle of a stream is the only sound. 



The house has the striking novelty of a chimney, and there 

 is a fire all day long in the dining-room. 



I must now say a little about my hosts and try to give you 

 some idea of them. I heard their history from Mr. Damon, 

 and thought it too strange to be altogether true until it was 



