232 



HA WAIT. 



[LETTER XXV. 



this vast tableland, which lies between the bulbous domes ofj 

 Mauna Kea, Maun a Loa, and Hualalai, the loneliest, saddest,! 

 dreariest expanse I ever saw. 



The air was clear and the sun bright, yet nothing softened 1 

 into beauty this formless desert of volcanic sand, stones, andj 

 lava, on which tufts of grass and a harsh scrub war with wind : 

 and drought for a loveless existence. Yet, such is the effect:! 

 of atmosphere, that Mauna Loa, utterly destitute of vegeta-i 

 tion, and with his sides scored and stained by the black Tava-i 

 flows of ages, looked liked a sapphire streaked with lapis i 

 lazuli. Nearly blinded by scuds of sand, we rode for hours 

 through the volcanic wilderness j always the same rigid mamane, 

 (Sophora Chrysophylla ?) the same withered grass, and the ! 

 same thornless thistles, through which the strong wind swept 

 with a desolate screech. 



The trail, which dips iooo feet, again ascends, the country i 

 becomes very wild, there are ancient craters of great height 

 densely wooded, wooded ravines, the great bulk of Mauna : 

 Kea with his ragged crest towers above tumbled rocky regions, : 

 which look as if nature, disgusted with her work, had broken 

 it to pieces in a passion ; there are living and dead trees, a i 

 steep elevation, and below, a broad river of most jagged and ' 

 uneven a-a. The afternoon fog, which serves instead of rain, l 

 rolled up in dense masses, through which we heard the plain- j 

 tive bleating of sheep, and among blasted trees and distorted ! 

 rocks we came upon Kalaieha. 



I have described the "foreign residences" elsewhere. Here - 

 is one of another type, in which a wealthy sheepowner's son, I 

 married to a very pretty native woman, leads for some months { 

 in the year, from choice, a life so rough, that most people would 

 think it a hardship to lead it from necessity. There are two 

 apartments, a loft and a "lean-to." The hospitable owners J 

 gave me their sleeping-room, which was divided from the , 

 "living-room" by a canvas partition. This last has a rude 

 stone chimney split by an earthquake, holding fire enough to 

 roast an ox. Round it the floor is paved with great rough I 

 stones. A fire of logs, fully three feet high, was burning, but j 

 there was a faulty draught, and it emitted a stinging smoke. I J 

 looked for something to sit upon, but there was nothing but a j 

 high bench, or chopping-block, and a fixed seat in the comer 

 of the wall. The rest of the furniture consisted of a small 

 table, some pots, a frying-pan, a tin dish and plates, a dipper, 

 and some tin pannikins. Four or five rifles and " shot-guns," 



